


A songbirds song

by tashaxxxxxx



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Body-Shaming, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Established Relationship, Famous Jaskier | Dandelion, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, Rape/Non-con Elements, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:35:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 25
Words: 85,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25384654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tashaxxxxxx/pseuds/tashaxxxxxx
Summary: Jaskier is a famous singer, dating Geralt for the last 5 years.  Everything was going perfectly.  Until it wasn’t.When Valdo Marx drops into Jaskier’s life, he threatens to destroy everything that Jaskier and Geralt have together.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 84
Kudos: 286





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is more of a prequel to Jaskier and Geralt’s relationship. The real story will start in the next chapter.
> 
> Warning: very slight mention of smut in this chapter. nothing overly graphic and very brief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is more of a prequel to Jaskier and Geralt’s relationship. The real story will start in the next chapter.
> 
> Warning: very slight mention of smut in this chapter. nothing overly graphic and very brief

Geralt was furious. He had come down to the lake a half hour’s walk from his home as he did every Wednesday, intending to enjoy a few hours of quiet contemplation with a book before he went to pick Ciri up from nursery. He had a fucking routine which he stuck to obsessively. And a stranger was sitting in his bench. Geralt had sat in that bench in that exact spot the same time every Wednesday for the last fucking 8 months since his 5 year old daughter started nursery. It had worked for 8 months. And now there was a stranger in his fucking seat. Arguably there were plenty of other empty spots around the lake. Few people ever came here which was in part why Geralt enjoyed it so much. But that wasn’t the point. The point was that was his seat and someone was sat in it.

In fairness, Geralt thought as he stalked over to another seat glaring daggers at the stranger, the stranger was very handsome. Not that Geralt would admit that he was staring. The stranger was wearing tight, obscenely tight, red skinny jeans with a light grey t-shirt that clung to every part of him. He was slim, not skinny exactly but skin, the t-shit doing nothing to hide the defined muscles on the man’s upper body. Not that he was anywhere near as muscly as Geralt but then few people could be. The strangers brown hair was messy from the soft breeze coming off from the lake, head bent over a notebook sitting on his lap. He was wearing sunglasses which covered his face but as if sensing Geralt’s staring,t he stranger lifted his head, pushing the sunglasses down his face. And Geralt was lost in the bluest eyes he had ever seen.

“Can I help you?” The strangers voice was warm and welcoming, face lifting off into a smile and Geralt dropped his head, cursing himself for staring so long at the handsome stranger. 

Yennefer would have been laughing loudly when all Geralt could come up with was, “Fuck, sorry.” 

The stranger smiled again, motioning for Geralt to come over. “Not that I don’t mind being stared at by a handsome stranger.” And fuck he thought Geralt was handsome, “But the glaring is a little terrifying.” Geralt grunted in answer, making the stranger chuckle softly. “Can I ask why I was being glared at?”

“You’re in my seat.” Geralt growled and he hadn’t actually meant to say those words but well, they were out there now. To the stranger’s credit he just looked at Geralt a little aghast before bursting into soft laughter which had Geralt’s heart melting. And shit, he really needed to take up Triss’ offer of finding him a date. He hadn’t had any action since he and Yennefer had divorced nearly 2 years ago and it was obviously showing through the way he was acting towards this stranger. 

“Well, I offer my most humble apology.” The man said, closing his notebook, standing and offering a low bow which had Geralt staring at the man all over again. “I shall leave you to your glaring in peace.” And Geralt felt a sudden flush of shame run through him for having displaced the stranger.

“No, stay. It’s fine, I’ll move.” Geralt grunted, going to stand and motioning for the stranger to sit back down. If Yennefer could see him now.

The stranger smiled, not sitting but not walking away either. He seemed intrigued, Geralt thought, as he placed the notebook into a guitar case Geralt hadn’t noticed he had until now. “Perhaps a compromise.” The man smiled warmly again and why the fuck did that make Geralt’s hear beat like a teenage girl. He really needed to get laid. “We can both sit down. The bench is big enough for two after all.”

Geralt grunted his agreement, sitting next to the stranger in silence for a few minutes. After a few minutes more the uncomfortable silence Geralt honestly expected the man to get up and leave but instead he took out his notebook and pen, returning to writing in his notebook. Every now and again the stranger would hum softly under his breath before scribbling something down. Geralt watched with abject fascination before the stranger turned his face up once more. His face was covered in sunglasses once more, hiding the blue eyes Geralt had only glimpsed and he shouldn’t feel so disappointed about it that.

“What are you writing?” Geralt grunted, feeling like he should say something now he had the strangers attention again. He cursed himself for the way the words came out angry.

Th stranger smiled again, “You’re not one for small talk are you?” He asked and before Geralt could even begin to understand that question answered, “Song lyrics.”

Geralt grunted at this. “You’re a musician.” The stranger laughed at this, nodding his head. “My bar does live music. If you’re ever interested....”. Geralt trailed off, cursing again. He hadn’t even thought the words through before answering but the look that crossed the strangers face made Geralt think he’d offended him. At least the stranger laughed, voice echoing in the spring afternoon.

“I appreciate the offer my dear but I’m afraid I’m already fully booked.” And Geralt felt...disappointed. Geralt pushed that thought away, turning his head back to facing the lake again. “Beautiful isn’t it.” The stranger said softly a little while later, leaning back into the chair. Geralt grunted. “The lake I mean. The way it glimmers in the sunlight. So tranquil and peaceful. It makes me want to stay here forever.” Geralt hummed to the strangers rambling. He’d never really paid attention to the beauty of the landscape before but the stranger was right. It was a hidden gem, far enough away from the bustle of the city that no one really came here.

They sat in comfortable silence for nearly 2 hours. Geralt taking out his book but finding he couldn’t concentrate on the words, to focused on the stranger beside him humming and dribbling in his notebook. He was fascinating to Geralt. The first person Geralt had even been remotely interested in since Yennefer and he didn’t have a clue what to do.

He was slowly building up the nerve to ask the stranger on a date. Or maybe at least get the man’s name when his phone buzzed in his pocket reminding him of the time. The stranger turned his face to Geralt’s, eyes still hidden behind the sunglasses and raised an eyebrow as Geralt packed his book away. “Somewhere else to be?” He asked and Geralt refused to acknowledge the disappointed tone in the strangers voice.

“Sorry, I need to go and pick up my daughter.” Geralt said, getting to his feet. He really was sorry but he had to go.

The stranger nodded, smile now a little sad at the edges. “Perhaps I’ll see you again soon?” The stranger asked hopefully and Geralt grunted in response, mind already racing through the fact he was running late to pick up his daughter. That alarm on his phone was a last resort ring. Maybe if he ran back to his house to grab his car he’d make it before the school bell rung.

“Bye then.” The stranger shouted as Geralt lifted a hand in a wave, already jogging up the path back to his home.

It wasn’t until he was standing outside Ciri’s nursery that he realised he hadn’t even gotten the stranger’s name.

.....

Jaskier was an idiot. A hopeless romantic idiot. That was the only reason he could explain sitting by the sae lake in the exact same bench, exactly a week after meeting the white haired stranger. He’d come back every day since and hadn’t seen him once. What did he expect though, that the man would appear out of the bushes and take Jaskier’s breath away in a breath stealing kiss. That was ridiculous. Real life didn’t work like that.

Except Jaskier couldn’t get the thought of that man out of his head since meeting him. Tall with chin length white hair that Jaskier wanted to run his fingers though. Amber eyes blazing into Jaskier’s soul as he glared at him. Muscles that Jaskier wanted to run his hands all over as the stranger lifted him up, because he was pretty sure the man could have if he wanted to. And a jaw like steal that Jaskier could cut himself on. All added up to an image Jaskier just couldn’t get out of his brain. Which was a problem because Jaskier didn’t even think the man even liked him that much. He had grunted and hummed, Jaskier making up most of their barely their conversation with his rambling. The man had been glaring at Jaskier with those cat like eyes the whole time. The excuse of picking up his daughter was probably just a way to get away from Jaskier. That and if the man had a daughter then chances were he was probably married as well.

If Jaskier was honest the looks of the stranger hadn’t been what made him want to stay. It had been the fact the man hadn’t recognised Jaskier. There had been no hint of recognition in his eyes. And when he had offered Jaskier a gig at his bard (a gig Jaskier would have jumped at nearly a year ago), the fact this stranger had no idea who Jaskier was had cemented into his mind. And Jaskier loved that. Loved that there were still people in the world who didn’t recognise him at a glance. Who didn’t look at him as if they knew him.

Jaskier had always wanted to be a musician. Loved the way the music flowed through him pouring his hear and soul to the world in song. His parents had never approved. They wanted him to be a Doctor or something equally useful. Jaskier had rebelled against his parents ideas for him from an early age, looking back now Jaskier knew he had been ungrateful. They had never denied him anything. Even though they didn’t approve of his love for music they had still paid for music lessons. His Mother, Jaskier thinks, was convinced that if she let Jaskier learn music he would soon lose interest in it. And his Father, well as long as Jaskier kept his grades high his Father could care less about his extra curricular activities. When he had taken music in college his parents had almost kicked him out. Almost. They let him stay because of what other people might have thought had they kicked Jaskier from their home.

When Jaskier was accepted into Oxford majoring in Music and English Language, his parents had been over the moon. It was the first time Jaskier had ever seen them looking proud at their son. It was the last time but still, it was nice while it lasted. Jaskier spent his 3 years studying in Oxford in the best way he could. He had always loved life and living away from his parents home gave Jaskier the freedom to explore that love of life. Ad to enjoy the people in it. And Jaskier did enjoy. Anyone and everyone. He lost track of the people he bedded throughout his time in the University. Most of his peers and all his Professor’s thought he was wasting his time, going out and partying every night. A different man or woman in his bed every week. Jaskier didn’t care. Had never cared what people thought.

When he graduated from honours everyone had been shocked. Even his parents who had heard of what Jaskier had been up to in University and repeatedly told him how he was wasting his talents. The University offered Jaskier a teaching position in the music department. As his parents told him it wasn’t what they had hoped for their son but it was better than nothing. Jaskier had refused the offer. He didn’t want to be stuck in a classroom all day, teaching other people how to fulfil their dreams. No, he wanted to be a musician and he would succeed in it.

His parents cut him off. It was the first time in Jaskier’s life he didn’t have a penny to his name, living off busking in the streets and performing in any dive bar that he could. Looking back, Jaskier knew he was barely scraping a living. He had been one bad day from being homeless. Except Jaskier had always had the luck of the devil, according to hi Father anyway.

After one of his performances in a dive club in the middle of London, Jaskier honestly couldn’t even begin to remember the name of it, after 6 months out of University Jaskier had been approached by his current Manager. Priscilla. She had loved his set, asking him if he had a demo CD she could borrow. Jaskier had produced an album he’d produced while still in University, apologising for the fact it didn’t have any of his current songs on it and thanking her for the compliment. He’d tried, unsuccessfully, to flirt with her until she was grabbed by her friends and walked away. He had at least managed to slip his number into the back of the CD.

When she called a week later, Jaskier had grinned, thinking he was getting a call about sex. Which he wouldn’t have minded in the slightest. Priscilla was a beautiful woman with long flowing blonde hair. When she had said she worked for a recording studio and had shown his CD to her boss Jaskier had felt like his heart might stop. They had wanted to see him and have him record an album.

Jaskier had agreed right away, going in with a million ideas and having the CD ready by the end of the month. It was released exactly 3 months after Jaskier first met Priscilla and the reaction had been massive. Bigger than Jaskier could have ever hoped for in his wildest dreams.

6 months later and Jaskier had a sold out UK tour which he started in the next 2 months, a number one single in over 10 different countries, his album hitting number one in the UK and America as well as gracing the top 10 in another 8 countries, and a worldwide tour being looked at for next year. It was...overwhelming. Amazing but overwhelming. Jaskier couldn’t go 2 steps without being recognised and he honestly didn’t know what to do with his new found fame. Priscilla, and how much Jaskier loved that woman in a completely platonic way, had quit her job at the recording label and taken up position as Jaskier’s manager. She was a God sent, dealing with everything that came with being a pop star. Jaskier honestly didn’t know where he would be without her organising his whole...well life really.

While Jaskier’s dreams had finally come true, his music being heard by millions of people all over the world, Jaskier couldn’t help the sour note in his mouth. Jaskier loved attention, had loved being the centre of attention since he was a child but this...this was so much more scrutiny than Jaskier had ever expected. The first time he had appeared in the front page of a newspaper a picture taken while he was dressed in slacks on his way to the shop for groceries, a week after his single hit number one, with the headline ‘Has the pressure of fame already gotten to Jaskier. The singer sporting a haggard look as he’s seen walking the streets’ Jaskier had burst into tears. Priscilla had had to come down to his apartment to calm him down, Jaskier not understanding why the simple fact that he had gone out to buy groceries in his normal lazy day clothing could make front page news.

6 months into being famous, Jaskier had gotten used to the attention. He knew where to go to avoid being seen by the paparazzi. He knew not to go out of his apartment unless he was dressed in his best clothing. He knew how to act in the interviews he was set. Knew how to charm the interviewers into loving him. He knew how to handle the fans that followed him around if they even got an idea he was somewhere. Jaskier was used to it now. He didn’t like that his private life was no longer private. But he was used to it. It was all part of the deal to allow Jaskier to live his dream and Jaskier wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise his dream of being a musician.

Which was why when he stumbled across the little lake surrounded by small park benches completely by accident Jaskier had fallen in love. The place was remote, Jaskier had only found it because he had needed some air and decided to take his car and drive out of London. Stopping short in an empty car park a few miles south of the lake, Jaskier had stumbled across the picturesque scene quite by accident. Which was why he would probably have kept coming regardless of any hot strangers. To at least get some time to himself away from the expectations that he had to be perfect all of the time.

And then this stranger had appeared, tall, gruff and handsome. Barely saying a word and so delightfully blissfully unaware of who Jaskier was. And well, Jaskier had fallen head first. Which was why as Jaskier sat gazing at the lake, lamenting over the fact he would probably never see this handsome stranger again, he almost had a heart attack on the spot when a gruff cough caused him to turn around.

Amber eyes staring at Jaskier in a mirror image of last week’s first meeting. As Jaskier melted under the glower of the stranger Jaskier cursed himself softly. He really had fallen hard.

.....

“You’re miserable.” Yennefer noted as Geralt dropped Ciri off for the weekend. Geralt grunted, placing his daughter’s backpack on the floor of Yennefer’s living room. In a way Geralt was lucky he and Yennefer were still on such good terms after their split. It definitely made looking after Ciri easier even if it meant Yennefer seemed to think she had any say in Geralt’s life. 

“I’m fine.” Geralt grunted, smiling softly as Ciri took out a bag of Lego and scattered it across the floor. Yennefer rolled her eyes, violet eyes softening slightly at the look of her daughter before flashing back to geralt.

“You are.” Geralt said nothing. “Well, if you won’t tell me can I ask a favour.” Geralt nodded his head and Yennefer offered a predatory smile. “I need you to watch Ciri for me next Saturday.” Geralt raised an eyebrow at that. Because the weekends where the busiest times at his bar and Yennefer worked weekdays, it had been an easy decision for Ciri to spend Monday to Thursday with Geralt. After picking her up from nursery Friday (unless Yennefer finished work early, which was a rare treat as her work as a lawyer kept her busy most weekdays) he dropped her off at Yennefer’s for the weekend. It was rare they had to change the schedule.

“Don’t glower.” Yennefer said, rolling her eyes at Geralt’s silence. “I have a meeting with a client Saturday afternoon. Tried to get out of it, I can’t.” She glared, not at Geralt but the metaphorical client who had obviously done something to annoy Yennefer. Geralt almost felt sorry for them. “Ill pick Ciri up before it gets busy at the bar.” Geralt nodded his thanks, he hated bringing his 5 year old to the bar even though he only brought her when they were closed and Triss loved to see the blonde haired girl.

“Ciri, I’m going to head off.” Geralt hummed towards hi little girl who bounded up off the floor and jumped on Geralt, throwing tiny arms around his neck as Geralt picked her up easily. He laughed as he swung her in his arms.

“Can’t you stay for dinner, Daddy?” Ciri whined, emerald puppy dog eyes looking at Geralt. Yennefer gave a shrug to say he could stay if he wanted but Geralt shook his head. This was Yennefer’s time with their daughter and Geralt wouldn’t take that time from her. He knew how much Yennefer loved their little girl.

“Sorry cub.” Ciri giggled at the nickname as Geralt set her back to the floor. “Need to go and make sure Lambert didn’t burn down the bar.” Yennefer smirked and Ciri went into a peal of laughter as Geralt headed back outside to his car.

On the drive to the bar, he considered what Yennefer had said. He knew he was glowering more often. Triss said as much when he’d come in to do inventory Thursday. His mind kept wandering over to the mysterious stranger he had met by the lake. He had wanted to go and see if the man was their again but hadn’t had a chance to do so yet and Geralt was cursing himself internally for not getting a number. Or anything. But then, it was probably for the best. Geralt wasn’t exactly made for dating. It was part of the reason he and Yennefer had split. She claimed she needed someone who could communicate with more than two syllables at a time. Between Geralt’s refusal to talk and their heated arguments in the last few months of their relationship, it really had been best they had split. Anyway, being friends with Yennefer without the complication of sex had always been easier for Geralt.

......

The next Wednesday Geralt walked down towards the small lake with small hope of seeing the handsome stranger again. It had been a week since their encounter and Geralt doubted the man would be there again. After all, Geralt rarely saw anyone at the lake and he definitely had never seen that man before last week. 

He’d wanted to come before now, just to see if he would see the handsome stranger but hadn’t been able to. Between Ciri’s nursery schedules and Geralt’s time spent working at the bar Wednesday afternoon’s where the only free time Geralt really had to come here.

As Geralt walked down to the lake, he felt his heart stutter in disbelief as he saw familiar messy brown hair sitting in his usual seat. Geralt stopped his walking, staring at the stranger for a few moments before he realised what he was doing. He had spent the whole week thinking of nothing but this mysterious stranger, not expecting to see him again and now he was here. Geralt didn’t believe in destiny but fuck if this wasn’t close to it. 

Before Geralt could really register what he was doing, he found himself coughing gruffly, having the stranger turn his head once startled to look at Geralt. As soon as he turned his head a warm smile appeared on the man’s face and Geralt felt his heart stutter a little. He was still wearing sunglasses so Geralt couldn’t see his blue eyes like he wanted to.

“Hello stranger.” The man greeted warmly, motioning to the seat next to him. The man moved his guitar case to rest carefully on the floor as Geralt took his seat. Geralt grunted his hello, worry running through his head. He’d thought about this man all week and now he couldn’t even bring himself to string two words together. The stranger didn’t seem phased by Geralt’s lack of communication as he held out a hand to the man saying, “I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself last week. Jaskier, at your service.” The man as looking at Geralt expectantly so Geralt took the hand in a rough grip.

Jaskier’s hand was warm and firm in his own and Geralt wondered how it would feel on his bare skin. Shaking that thought from his mind, Geralt replied, “Geralt.” Jaskier smiled brightly and Geralt could almost imagine those blue eyes blighting up at the knowledge.

“Pleasure to meet you Geralt.” Jaskier said. “How has your week been.”

“Good. Your’s?” Geralt answered curtly, wincing at his own gruff answer. Again Jaskier didn’t seem phased as he started to talk.

“Unproductive. Unfortunately I spent the whole week sitting on this bench mooning over a handsome stranger.” Jaskier blushed lightly as Geralt stared at Jaskier in confusion. He had come here every day. Waiting for Geralt? “Although I have managed to get some decent lyrics out of those days.” Jaskier continued, launching into a spiel of speech about the beauty of the scenery and a handsome stranger that may have just inspired his next song. The words tumbled from Jaskier quickly enough for Geralt t struggle to keep up with him at times.

“But I’m rambling.” Jaskier said, blushing again.

“It’s fine.” Geralt grunted. He found he rather liked Jaskier’s rambling. It was comforting, which was a strange thought. Jaskier blushed a little. “Really, carry on.”

So Jaskier kept a steady stream of conversation before Geralt realised the time and had to leave to pick up Ciri. Before he left, Geralt paused back turned to Jaskier. Feeling his heart thundering in his chest Geralt turned around and pulled out his phone. “Could I...fuck...could I give you number?” Geralt asked, steeling himself for rejection. But Jaskier grinned widely, lighting his whole face out as he asked Geralt to give his number. Geralt recited the number and Jaskier scrawled it into his notebook.

“I’ll text.” Jaskier promised and Geralt grunted in answer. Running down the path back to his home, Geralt felt his heart lift in excitement.

.......

Jaskier didn’t text until Saturday afternoon. Ciri was sitting on the bar with Triss, playing with Princess dolls as Triss sang a rendition of let it Go to Ciri’s giggling applause. As Geralt’s phone chimed to announce a text he fully expected it to be Yennefer saying she was finished early and was ready to pick up Ciri. Instead, he was surprise to find an unrecognised number.

/So sorry this is late coming but my week’s been mad :) Jaskier x/

Geralt felt his heart lift as he texted back that it was fine. Jaskier’s reply came within seconds, a text full of emoji faces and then followed by a text asking how his weekend was.

Geralt found himself texting Jaskier until he was rudely interrupted by Ciri’s shout of “Mama.” Geralt lifted his head from his phone and smiled as Ciri threw her arms around Yennefer’s body.

“How was your day?” Yennefer asked, placing her sleek black handbag on the counter and smiling her welcome to Triss. Triss grinned, passing a glass of water over to Yennefer as Ciri launched into an explanation of what she and Triss had been playing all afternoon.

“And what was Geralt doing?” Yennefer asked, arching an eyebrow and looking at Geralt pointedly.

Ciri rolled her eyes. “He was on his phone all afternoon.” Geralt felt a well of guilt run up him. He hadn’t meant to ignore his daughter but she had been happy playing with Triss and he had been distracted by his conversation with Jaskier.

“Really, doing what?” Yennefer asked violet eyes pinning Geralt into a glare as he blushed fiercely. He didn’t see Triss sneak up behind him, grabbing the phone from the counter and opening his next text from Jaskier.

“Who’s buttercup?” Triss asked, Yennefer raising an eyebrow again as Geralt blushed harder. This was exactly why he didn’t put actual names on his contacts. Yennefer and Triss were too nosy for their own good.

“No one.” Geralt grunted, Ciri laughing as she always did when Geralt grunted. She seemed to think it sounded like a constipated cow, much to Geralt’s horror and Yennefer’s absolute amusement.

“Well you’ve been texting them for the last 2 hours.” And had it really been that long. Geralt hadn’t even realised. “A girlfriend? Boyfriend?” Triss asked excitedly. Geralt growled. “I didn’t know you were dating again.”

“I’m not.” Geralt, taking the phone back from Triss’ grip. Yennefer and Triss hared a look before sending Geralt’s pointed gaze. Geralt sighed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to ignore the two until he’d told them the truth. “I met him last week. We exchanged numbers. It’s not a big deal.”

“That is a very big deal.” Triss announced, clapping her hands together, Ciri copying her with enthusiasm. “You never exchange number. You don’t talk to anyone outside of us, Vesemir and your brothers.” Geralt just grunted, frown appearing on his face.

Yennefer was watching him with a frown on her face. It wasn’t that she was jealous, Geralt knew that because his ex had spent the last 2 years with Triss trying to find him a suitable date. It wasn’t even that the person he was texting was a man, Yennefer had known Geralt had had relations with men before dating her and hadn’t been bothered in the slightest. “You like this man.” Yennefer stated and Geralt couldn’t help the hot flush that ran up his face. “Invite him for a date then. It’s about time you dated someone. Now, we should be going. I promised to take Ciri to the museum on the way home.” The girl had been obsessed with the museum since a school trip a few months ago. 

Geralt hugged Ciri tightly, Triss hugging the girl as well before Yennefer led her out. “You going to call him?” Triss asked when Yennefer and Ciri had gone and Geralt growled low. Turning on his heel to his office, ignoring Triss’ eye roll on his way.

......

Jaskier was sitting in a make-up chair, getting ready for a live performance in a few hours when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He apologised to the make-up girl as he pulled the phone out of his pocket. His heart leapt at the nam on the screen appeared as Geralt. Ignoring the sighs of annoyance coming from the man-up girls, Jaskier took the phone to the bathroom for a little privacy as he answered it with a breathless “Hello.”

“Hi.” Geralt deep tones rang out form the other end.

“What can I do for you?” Jaskier asked after a few moments of silence. He was all too aware that if he stayed in here to long then he would be forcibly dragged back out by Priscilla and into the make-up chair. He had hated the make-up when they first started it. It took forever and when they were done Jaskier could barely recognise himself, the foundation hiding every blemish that lined Jaskier’s face.

“Erm....fuck....I....”. Geralt trailed off, voice growly in the background. Jaskier felt a soft chuckle in his throat at the knowledge that Geralt seemed to be as in-verbal on the phone as he was in real life. “I don’t. I don’t do this often and I wanted to...would you like to go on a date?”

Jaskier felt his heart stop a little at that. “Yes. Obsoluetly yes.” Jaskier said before dread pulled him back into reality. He couldn’t go on a date with Geralt. Not a proper date at least. If the paparazzi saw him with the white haired man then Geralt would lose as much privacy as Jaskier and if he had a daughter. Well, that just wasn’t fair. 

“Good...I...how about next Wednesday afternoon.” Geralt grumbled and Jaskier wanted to say yes, desperately wanted to say yes. But he couldn’t. Not if he didn’t want to drag Geralt into the public eye with him. Unless....Jaskier considered the small lake they had met for a moment and smiled softly to himself.

“We could go to the lake again?” Jaskier asked, hesitantly. He knew the whole point of a date was to go for dinner or something equally romantic but if he didn’t want Geralt and his picture to be plastered on every magazine then this was the best option.

Luckily, Geralt said yes and they agreed to meet that Wednesday at 1. As Jaskier said goodbye he felt himself a little giddy. He hadn’t been on a proper date in ages. Everyone around him more interested in the fact that Jaskier was famous, not his personality. The only person in Jaskier’s life that didn’t seem to care about his fame being Priscilla. And his parents who were still convinced that this was a waste of Jaskier’s talents and life.

But Geralt. Geralt didn’t even know Jaskier was famous and he had asked the man out because of Jaskier, not because of the fame. With a large grin on his face, Jaskier floated back over to the make-up chair, not paying attention to the people around him as his mind flooded with images of the white haired man.

.......

Geralt was nervous. He was seriously nervous as he paced the area next to the bench. He was early, having come down to the lake earlier today to set up for Jaskier. He wanted everything to be perfect. Yennefer had agreed to pick up Ciri from nursery, smile smug when Geralt had asked. 

When Jaskier had suggested meeting by the lake Geralt had panicked. He had thought dinner or coffee or something that involved an activity. Before he had rung Jaskier he had researched the best things to do on a first date and had had a list of options ready to pass to Jaskier. A romantic dinner, cinema, bowling. Anything. Jaskier saying meeting at the lake had left Geralt stumped on what they could do but he had accepted anyway. After all weekend trying to think of something that he and Jaskier could do, Geralt had finally stooped to asking Triss’ advice.

She had been giddy in excitement that Geralt was even going on a date. When he’d told her where they were going she had immediately said a romantic picnic and Geralt kicked himself because that was simple. He’d spent the whole morning after dropping Ciri off at nursery, making sandwiches and had even bought cakes. Now it was all neatly spread over a picnic blanket Triss had leant him, 2 wine glasses sitting on the side with a bottle of wine. Geralt didn’t usually drink but this was a date and people drank on dates. He thought. Honestly he didn’t know how to date. He and Yennefer had started dating at 18 and they’d dated on and off for 8 years before they finally called it quit. Come to think of it, Geralt thinks their first date involved wine. But then their first date had been in a bar so...

Geralt was so engrossed in his thoughts he startled a little when Jaskier appeared at the entrance to the lake. He was dressed in tight skinny jeans, blue today, with a bright red shirt and a grey waist coat to finish it off. Geralt felt himself gulping, thinking of his own clothing. Old jeans and one of his better grey t-shirts. Come to think of, he looked like he always did while Jaskier actually looked like he had made an effort.

The spring sun was shining down on the lake, warming the grass so Jaskier still had his sunglasses perched on his nose, having Geralt silently cursing again. He really wanted to see the bright blue of Jaskier’s eyes.

Geralt stood up awkwardly as Jaskier walked over. The musician smiled hesitantly at Geralt, a light blush on his cheeks. “Sit?” Geralt grunted and Jaskier nodded, following Geralt’s direction as he folded his knees underneath his body. Geralt watched in a fascination at the nimble way Jaskier went to the ground.

“You didn’t have to do all this.” Jaskier said, face a soft shade of red. Geralt grunted, cursing himself. It was too much. To intimate. It was only their first date.

“I can...” Geralt started but Jaskier cut him off.

“No, it’s perfect.” His smile was warm and Geralt found himself humming silently. 

“Wine?” Geralt asked, raising the bottle and Jaskier nodded.

“Just the one. I drove here.” Geralt cursed himself again. Of course Jaskier would be driving, he always drove. 

“I can get you something else.” Geralt said, making to stand. “My house is only a little way up the path.” Jaskier shook his head, pulling out a bottle of water from his ever present guitar case.

“It’s ok. Really. This...it’s perfect.” Jaskier smiled and Geralt felt himself ease a little as he offered Jaskier a plate.

Geralt watched with fascination as Jaskier piled his plate with a few sandwiches, eating them slowly. “Do you have to pick up your daughter today?” Jaskier asked and Geralt felt his heart pick up at this. Jaskier had remembered Geralt had a daughter. And he hadn’t run away like most people might have done.

“No. Her Mum’s picking her up.” Geralt grunted. Jaskier hummed.

“How old is she?”

“5. Her name’s Ciri.” Geralt said, dropping his plate and pulling out his phone. He pulled up a picture and passed it to Jaskier with a grunt. Jaskier face lit up with a grin as he looked at the little girl.

“She lovely.” Jaskier gushed. “She looks so much like you.” Geralt grunted. 

“She got my hair but she definitely got Yenn’s attitude.” Geralt chuckled at the image of his 5 year old sending him a glare so like Yennefer’s last night when Geralt hadn’t let her have any of the cake he had bought for this picnic.

Jaskier laughed softly. “Well I think she’s perfect.” Jaskier said sincerely and Geralt felt his heart melt a little at the compliment. 

After that conversation flowed easily between the two. They talked about everything and nothing as the afternoon wore on slowly. After they had eaten Jaskier had moved to lie down on the blanket, looking up at the blue sky and smiling. “That cloud looks like an elephant.” The man stated, pointing to a particularly fluffy cloud. Geralt was lying next to him, hand shading him from the sun as he followed Jaskier’s finger. 

“Don’t see it.” Geralt grunted and Jaskier sighed dramatically.

“How can’t you? It’s right there.” Geralt was taken back to a similar comment that Ciri had made a few days ago that he burst into laughter. “Why are you laughing?” Jaskier asked indignantly, turning so his belly was on the ground. The sunglasses had dropped down and Geralt could see the blue eyes shining with mirth.

“It’s just, Ciri made the same comment a few days ago.”

“You’re saying that I sound like your 5 year old daughter?” Jaskier asked and Geralt felt a spike of worry rung through him. Before Jaskier laughed loudly, grinning proudly, the glasses still halfway down his nose giving Geralt full view of the laughter in Jaskier’s eyes. “Well, your daughter must be far better company that you then.”

By the time Geralt had to leave, Yennefer dropping Ciri back off at his house soon, they were both smiling widely and laughing. “I’d like to do this again.” Geralt found himself nodding.

“Next week.” Jaskier announced. “I’lll bring the picnic this time.” Geralt nodded in agreement. As they stood to leave, Jaskier having helped Geralt pack away the rubbish from the picnic Geralt hesitated. jaskier was standing close to him, a few more inches closer and they would be touching.

Jaskier was nearly the same height as Geralt, but Geralt still had to look down slightly at the other man. His lips were still in the same smile they had been all afternoon and Geralt felt himself leaning down to capture those lips into a kiss. The kiss was short and chaste, both coming away grinning like school girls but it was perhaps the best kiss Geralt had ever had. As the separated, Geralt spent the rest of the night thinking of those lips on his own.

......

Jaskier was happy. The happiest he had been in too long. Geralt was perfect. The picnic that first date had been a surprise to Jaskier and he had felt his heart swell at the sight of the neatly laid out food. Geralt had looked so uncertain about it, like he wasn’t sure he’d done the right thing. jaskier had been quick to reassure him. Their first kiss had been perfect. None of the urgent needy kisses Jaskier was used to sharing but a sweet caring kiss. Jaskier thought he might be in love. No, he knew he was definitely in love. And Geralt still didn’t know who Jaskier really was.

They’d been dating a little over a month and Geralt had invited Jaskier over to Sunday lunch at his home. Jaskier had almost said no when Geralt said it was a dinner with his family. But Geralt had looked so hopefully at Jaskier that he hadn’t had the heart to say no. It was sweet that Geralt even wanted Jaskier to meet his family and if Jaskier was looking forward to seeing Ciri again.

He had met Geralt’s daughter on their 5th date. Yennefer had called Geralt the Friday afternoon to say she couldn’t pick Ciri up until the next day and Geralt had already made plans with Jaskier for that night, inviting the musician over for a movie night. A change of pace to their usual lunchtime picnics. When Geralt had called to see if Jaskier would be ok spending the night watching movies with his daughter instead Jaskier had immediately agreed. Geralt had repeatedly texted to say he wouldn’t mind if Jaskier didn’t want to meet Ciri but Jaskier had argued. Ciri was a part of Geralt’s life and if Jaskier wanted to be a part of Geralt’s life he had to meet the most important part of that life. Ciri.

The girl had been adorable. A blonde haired little bundle of energy who upon Jaskier walking through the door had quite loudly said if “Jaskier ever hurt her Daddy I will punch him. And she knew how to punch because my Uncle Lambert taught me how to do it.” Geralt had groaned an apology, telling Ciri she couldn’t just punch people.

Jaskier though had taken it in stride, getting down to his knees so he was level with the little girl and saying, “I promise I will never hurt Geralt.” Ciri had looked at him seriously for a few moments before wrapping her little arms around Jaskier’s neck for a hug and running away to the front room.

“Sorry, she gets...overprotective.” Geralt sighed, offering a hand to help Jaskier to his feet. Jaskier smiled softly. At that.

“It’s only fair. You are her Father.” Geralt had looked at him oddly then, a smile spreading across his usually harsh face. Jaskier had just grinned, moving towards the living room.

“Sit next to me Jask. We’re watching Frozen.” Jaskier nodded, taking a seat next to Ciri as instructed. He was grateful he’d opted for comfortable clothing today, having snuck out of the back of his house to avoid any paparazzi on his way over here.

Geralt brought in a large pizza box, plating up a small slice for Ciri as he dropped into the other seat next to his daughter. As the movie played, Jaskier found himself laughing and singing along to the songs with Ciri. Geralt watching them both with a warm smile on his face.

When Geralt had declared it was past Ciri’s bed time, he had put the little girl into the bed, putting on another movie and settling next to Jaskier on the sofa. “You can stay the night.” Geralt grumbled as Jaskier felt himself snuggling into Geralt’s warm and sturdy side. 

“I didn’t bring any clothes. Or a toothbrush.” Jaskier protested, even as he snuggled into Geralt’s warm embrace. Geralt just hummed.

“We have spare toothbrushes and you can borrow my clothes.” Jaskier had nodded, smiling softly as he enjoyed the feeling of Geralt’s arms around him.

They ended up spending the night in Geralt’s bed cuddled around each other in sleep as if they had always meant to sleep like that. Jaskier had volunteered to make breakfast, Geralt arguing that Jaskier was a guest and didn’t have to even as Jaskier pulled up ingredients for pancakes. Geralt had watched as Jaskier flitted around his kitchen, making breakfast for them and by the time Ciri came down there were three plates piled high with the pancakes. Ciri had dug in enthusiastically, declaring around a full mouth that Jaskier was the best pancake maker in the world. 

As Jaskier stood pulled up outside Geralt’s home, he smiled softly at the memory. He’d seen Ciri a few times since and could say he was slowly falling in love with the little girl. Geralt had offered to pick Jaskier up for Sunday dinner but Jaskier had said he could drive to Geralt’s home and maybe he could spend the night afterwards. Geralt had grunted his agreement at this and Jaskier had sighed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Geralt at his apartment but Jaskier knew the press knew where he lived and the last thing he wanted was for them to get wind of a mysterious white haired man entering his apartment. He wasn’t ashamed of Geralt but Geralt was a private man and being dragged into Jaskier’s life in the spotlight didn’t allow much for privacy. He really needed to tell Geralt the truth and soon. Before Jaskier got himself to far into the other man’s life. Because there was no guarantee that when Geralt found out who Jaskier was that he would agree to stay. And well, Jaskier wouldn’t blame him.

.......

Geralt looked over as Jaskier shifted nervously in his seat in Geralt’s car. “You can still say no.” Geralt grumbled, eyes focused not he road as he travelled the well worn path up to Vesemir’s home. “They won’t mind.” They would, Geralt thought. Geralt never brought anyone over, and he knew they were all excited to meet Geralt’s boyfriend.

“No I’m fine.” Jaskier said, offering Geralt a bright smile. “Anyway I baked brownies so I can’t back out now.” Geralt told Jaskier he didn’t have to bring anything, that Vesemir made enough food to feed a small army but Jaskier had insisted, saying he would have felt guilty if he brought nothing and he couldn’t just bring wine as it would have left Ciri out.

Geralt laughed at that. “Well you’ve already won over Lambert and Eskel then.”

“So food is key for winning over your brothers.” Jaskier joked. Geralt grunted his assent. As he pulled into the driveway to Vesemir’s home, Jaskier started to get nervous again, leg moving up and down with the nerves.

Geralt rested a hand onto Jaskier’s leg, waiting until those soft blue eyes had turned to face him before saying “They’ll love you.” 

“Really?” Jaskier asked and Geralt grunted his assent. They would love Jaskier because Geralt did. And if they didn’t, well Geralt didn’t much care because the longer he spent with Jaskier the larger his feelings were becoming.

The first person to jump them was Ciri, of course. She squealed upon seeing Geralt open the door, running at her Father arms outstretched and Geralt caught her easily, spinning her into a circle as she laughed wildly. When he put her down she jumped on Jaskier, arms attaching to Jaskier’s legs as Jaskier passed the container of brownies over to Geralt and bent down to hug the girl.

Yennefer appeared in the corridor, raising an eyebrow at Geralt as Ciri dragged Jaskier into a large hug. “Brownies?” She said in way of greeting, taking the container from Geralt’s hand.

“Yeah, Jaskier baked them.” Geralt grunted, sending Yennefer a warning glare as Yennefer turned eyes to Jaskier. Ciri had let go of Jaskier now, running past Yennefer to announce to the rest of the family they were there. 

“Yennefer.” She said sharply, holding out a hand for Jaskier to take. Geralt was impressed when Jaskier didn’t flinch under the cold look of Yennefer, taking the violet eyed woman’s hand and shaking.

“Jaskier, pleasure to meet you.” Geralt thought he saw a flash of approval run through her face as she let go.

“I better get back to the kitchen. I’ll send Lambert out before Triss kicks him out.” Yennefer stated, walking back up the corridor and towards the kitchen. Geralt laughed loudly at that. Triss usually helped Vesemir with the dinner, turning up earlier than everyone else to help. Whenever Lambert came he made a point of going into kitchen to steal food just to get a rise out of Triss.

“Come on.” Geralt said, placing a hand onto Jaskier’s waist as he guided him into the living room. Ciri was sitting on the floor, playing with a teddy Eskel opposite her a doll in his hand. Upon their entrance Eskel got to his feet, offering Geralt a warm hug. Vesemir had adopted Eskel, Geralt and Lambert from the foster care system when they were in their early teens; their parents having died in a car crash leaving them with no family. He had been their Father for all intents and purposes since. 

“Eskel, this is Jaskier.” Geralt grunted as his older brother let go of him, turning scarred face and amber eyes towards Jaskier. Jaskier offered a warm smile, taking Eskel’s hand in a shake. Eskel grunted in answer and Jaskier chuckled softly. Eskel raised an eyebrow in confusion at that.

“Sorry, it’s just I thought it was only Geralt that responded in grunts.” Eskel laughed at this, clapping Jaskier on the back.

“Usually is. He’s not the most talkative person.” Geralt grumbled at this even as Jaskier and Eskel both laughed.

“Shit Merigold chased me out of the kitchen again.” Lambert grumbled, jumping into a chair as Ciri jumped from the floor into Lambert’s lap.

“Uncle Lambert said a bad word.” She said, poking Lambert in the chest. Geralt hummed in response as Lambert just rolled his eyes.

“Kids need to learn swear words to.” Lambert defended.

“Not when they’re 5”. Geralt retorted. Lambert turned amber eyes onto Jaskier, a grin splitting his face as he looked at him. “So this is buttercup.”

Geralt groaned at that. Triss had told them all that Geralt’s new boyfriend was saved under buttercup and they had all been calling that Jaskier since. It hadn’t really helped that Geralt hadn’t told them Jaskier’s name before coming here, not wanting any of his family to try and dig up dirt on his boyfriend before meeting him. “Buttercup?” Jaskier asked questioningly, eyebrow raised and Geralt felt his face get hotter.

“It’s what Geralt has you saved under in his phone.” Lambert laughed and Jaskier blushed a deep red at that. “Lambert by the way. The better looking brother.” Lambert offered a nod, lap still full of 5 year old Ciri so Jaskier waved back.

“Jaskier.”

.......

Jaskier felt the tension he’d been feeling all morning leak out of him as he interacted with Geralt’s brothers. They all seemed nice. Except maybe Yennefer who had glared at Jaskier so harshly Jaskier honestly thought the look might kill him. As it was he had survived but made a mental note to never piss Yennefer off. She looked like she could kill you and then talk her way out of it. 

“Geralt, good to see you.” An older man, Jaskier assumed was Vesemir Geralt’s Father, walked into the room, pulling Geralt into a warm hug. Jaskier felt his heart swell a little at the shows of affection. Geralt who was usually so reserved had a freeing look on his face surrounded by his family. An easy smile on his face that Jaskier resolved to see as often as possible. “This must be your mysterious boyfriend.” Jaskier blushed. He hadn’t realised how little Geralt had actually told his family about him until now.

“Jaskier, pleasure to meet you sir.” Jaskier said, falling back on old habits long engrained into him by his parents in the way to speak to his elders. Vesemir laughed, clapping Jaskier warmly on the back.

“Vesemir son, none of this sir.” Jaskier blushed a little at that, smiling at Vesemir. 

“Dinner yet?” Lambert asked from his seat on the couch. Geralt moved over to Jaskier, resting a hand over Jaskier’s back and Jaskier felt himself leaning back into it, turning a smile back at Geralt’s face.

“Yennefer and Triss are just dishing up now.” Vesemir replied and Lambert jumped to his feet, pulling Ciri up onto his shoulders at the same time. The blonde haired girl yelled in happiness, hands pulling at Lambert making him grimace.

Vesemir’s home had a room set up specifically for dinner’s, Jaskier realised as they entered a room with a long table piled high with food. Jaskier hesitated a moment, unsure where to seat before Geralt pulled him over to a seat next to him. Yennefer and a woman with wild frizzy brown hair, Triss Jaskier presumed, were already seated. Vesemir sat at the head of the table, Ciri taking a seat next to Yennefer and Geralt. Eskel sitting opposite Jaskier and Lambert sitting next to Triss.

“Triss by the way.” Triss shouted over the noise, offering Jaskier a smile as plates began to be filled.

“Jaskier.” Jaskier smiled back. He didn’t notice the way Triss frowned at him as he said that as he was distracted by Eskel passing him a plate of Chicken. Jaskier took a small helping, before passing it over. He’d been careful of his weight ever since being plunged into the spotlight, aware that gaining any sort of weight would be picked up immediately by the media. Geralt kept saying he didn’t need to lose weight but well, Jaskier wasn’t trying to he was just trying not to gain any.

Geralt and Yennefer helped Ciri with her meal as the table burst into loud conversations around them. Triss and Lambert seemed to be having some sort of argument over....well exactly what Jaskier wasn’t sure. “Ignore them. They’re always like that.” Vesemir stated, rolling his eyes at the two of them.

“You’d think they were an old married couple.” Eskel said just loudly enough for Triss and Lambert to hear.

“No fucking way would I marry Merigold.” Lambert announced angrily, ignoring Yennefer’s sharp glare at the language used

“Hey, you’d never get a catch as good as me.” Triss argued back. Jaskier found himself snorting back laughter at the two of them. Stealing a glance along the table Jaskier noted Geralt, Eskel and Ciri didn’t have that much restraint laughing loudly as the two bickered.

Jaskier slowly ate his food, smile warm on his face as he watched Geralt’s family around him. It was all so different to dinners with his family where the atmosphere had always had a thick layer of judgement and disappointment. Geralt’s family laughing and joking as they talked between themselves. Food being passed across the table at requests. Jaskier loved it.

“I can’t eat another bite.” Lambert declared, pushing his plate away as he leant back on his chair. 

“Not even brownies?” Yennefer asked and Lambert jumped up in surprise. 

“What brownies?” Lambert asked and Geralt laughed loudly at that. At some point after food had been eaten Geralt’s hand had ended up on Jaskier’s knee. It was a warm and steady weight that Jaskier enjoyed.

“Jaskier baked brownies.” Yennefer replied smirking when Lambert and Eskel turned amber eyes on him.

“I hope that’s ok?” Jaskier said a little hesitantly.

“Excuse these two idiots. That is beyond great.” Triss announced, sliding to her feet. “Now if you want them you can help bring the dishes through.” Throughout dinner Triss had been watching Jaskier with a curious look on her face and Jaskier was honestly a bit worried that the brown haired woman didn’t like him very much, if the frown on her face was anything to go by.

“I’ll help.” Jaskier announced going to get to his feet before being pushed back down by Geralt’s hand on his shoulder.

“You’re a guest.” Vesemir stated calmly, sending a pointed look at his sons. “Triss, sit down. The boys can clean the mess away.”

As Geralt, Eskel and Lambert disappeared from the room, all eyes turned towards Jaskier. Even Ciri had gone silent as if she felt the mood in the room change. Jaskier felt a little nervous as he met the eyes of Vesemir, Triss and Yennefer. “So, Jaskier, What are your intentions towards Geralt?” Yennefer offered, violet eyes gleaming in the light.

Jaskier would have laughed at how old fashioned the question was but honestly he was scared to. They were all looking at him with such serious expressions that Jaskier was feeling all the nerves run through him once more. “I don’t have any intentions.” Jaskier started. “I mean, I care about him a lot.” Jaskier faltered, unsure what kind of answer they were trying to get out of him.

“Geralt doesn’t bring people over. He doesn’t date.” Yennefer stated bluntly. “We want to know you won’t hurt him.”

“I won’t.” Jaskier promised. The silence held for a few more minutes before Yennefer nodded in ascent and the dense atmosphere in the room abated. When Geralt returned he sent a confused glare across Yennefer, Triss and Vesemir before settling back into his chair, hand resting once more on Jaskier’s knee. Jaskier offered Geralt a soft smile in return.

Eskel dished out the brownies with ice cream they had found in Vesemir’s fridge, all digging in happily. As they ate, Jaskier once more became aware of Triss’ eyes on his back and felt his face grow hot at the intense look she was giving him. Once bowls had been pushed back, all announcing Jaskier’s brownies had been delicious, Triss suddenly gasped in shock.

“That’s it. Oh my God.” She gasped, staring at Jaskier in shock. The rest of the room looked at her in confusion as Jaskier felt his heart plummet. He knew that look and he knew what was going to happen next and shit he hadn’t wanted Geralt to find out this way. “I’ve been trying to figure out where I know your face from all dinner.” Triss said, face not hiding her excitement. “It just clicked. Your Jaskier aren’t you?”

“Of course he is Merigold.” Lambert grumbled, taking a sip of the beer in front of him. “He introduced himself.”

Triss shook her head, ignoring Lambert’s comment. “No, I mean Jaskier as in the famous singer.” She looked around the room at the blank faces and sighed dramatically. “Come on, you must have heard of him. His single’s been number one in the charts for weeks.”

They all shook their heads and Triss groaned. Jaskier could feel every eye of the room on him and he flushed a little at the scrutiny, refusing to turn to face Geralt. “I’m right aren’t I?” Triss pushed and jaskier sighed. He couldn’t exactly deny it now. He nodded his head.

Yennefer, who had pulled out her phone at Triss’ declaration was pulling something up on YouTube. Jaskier felt his face flush an even deeper shade of red as he realised what it was. His latest performance on a chat show he’d done a few weeks ago. Lambert whistled softly at the performance, Eskel’s eyebrow raising into his hairline. Jaskier just dropped his face to the floor, embarrassment flooding in. He hadn’t wanted to wear such a skimpy outfit but he’d been told it would bring in more ratings and even Priscilla had to agree with that, even as she’d said he didn’t have to if he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to but Jaskier didn’t want to disappoint anyone either so he’d agreed to wear the skin tight orange skinny jeans and the black shirt with a V neck so low it didn’t really cover anything. Usually Jaskier enjoyed the skimpy outfits, always wanting to push fashion to it’s limits as best he could but he liked to do it on his own terms. Not someone else’s.

Jaskier didn’t dare raise his head as the video came to a stop. Embarrassment flooding through him. Geralt’s hand had left his knee now and Jaskier didn’t dare think what Geralt might think. He’d probably never want to see Jaskier again. Jaskier couldn’t really blame him for it. No one wanted to date someone so in the public eye like he was.

“I think we could all do with a drink in the other room.” Vesemir announced, taking the focus off Jaskier for a moment. Jaskier felt relief as everyone disappeared from the room except Geralt. Geralt was sitting next to Jaskier, amber eyes looking at Jaskier’s bent head.

“Jask, you ok?” Geralt asked softly and Jaskier lifted blue eyes to meet Geralt’s. He faked a smile, warm as it always was if a bit brittle at the edges. He’d become better and better at this fake smile the last few months. No one wanted to see him not smiling so Jaskier did his best to keep it showing at all times.

“Absolutely. Just didn’t expect for you all to see that. Bit embarrassing really.” Jaskier tried to laugh it off, he really did but the embarrassment wouldn’t let him. 

Geralt turned amber eyes to look into Jaskier’s, a frown on his face. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Jaskier didn’t mean to flinch at the look on Geralt’s face as he shrugged in answer.

“It was...It was nice for someone to you know...see me for me. Not for that.” Jaskier scrunched his nose up at the memory of that performance. It hadn’t been one of his favourites, the outfit and dance just a bit more revealing that he was comfortable with but he hadn’t had much choice. That was what the channel had wanted so that’s what they had gotten. “People don’t see me for me.”

Geralt took Jaskier’s hands in his own larger ones, squeezing gently. “I see you for you.” He said quietly and jaskier lifted blue eyes to meet amber ones, a quirk at the edge of his lips.

“You mean it?” Jaskier asked and Geralt nodded, hesitating for a moment.

“I do.” Geralt said, amber eyes warm. “I love you.”

Jaskier felt his heart swell again and a smile break across his face. “I love you too.” The smile that ran across Geralt’s face at that had the other man’s eyes lighting in his face. Geralt dropped his face to meet Jaskier’s lips, kissing him passionately for a moment before pulling back. “Geralt, I...my life it’s complicated.” Jaskier started because he needed Geralt to understand that. He needed Geralt to understand why Jaskier’s life wasn’t private anymore before the man made any other commitments.

“We’ll talk later.” Geralt hummed, amber eyes warm. “We should probably see the others. I think they were worried about you.” Jaskier nodded, hesitance running through him at the thought of coming face to face with Geralt’s family now they knew the truth. But if they were anything like Geralt they wouldn’t mind.

......

Geralt was a shocked when Yennefer showed that video of Jaskier. Shocked and little aroused. Jaskier had strutted to the words of an upbeat song, practically naked from the upper half because the shirt he’d been wearing hadn’t left much to the imagination, body moving in a flexible way that had Geralt’s mind moving to what Jaskier might be like in the bedroom if he was that flexible. And then he had dropped eyes down to Jaskier and found his boyfriend’s head hung in shame and bright red. All the arousal from the video had disappeared in that moment as Geralt glared at Yennefer to turn it off.

Eskel and Lambert were looking at Jaskier a little shocked, Vesemir a worried expression on his face, Triss and Yennefer looking unbelievably guilty and Ciri looking at the adults in confusion as Jaskier had refused to make eye contact with anyone in the room. When they had all left the room, Geralt had felt relief flood through him as he turned to his boyfriend. Jaskier still had his face turned down, neck bright red in embarrassment.

Learning Jaskier was actually a famous singer was...well Geralt hadn’t expected it. He’d always thought famous people were arrogant but Jaskier was so down to earth. He was so good with Ciri it was hard to couple the image he had of Jaskier with the image of the Jaskier in that video. But that didn’t matter because Geralt realised he loved Jaskier. Had known it for a while if he was honest with himself and when Jaskier had said he loved Geralt back it brought little bursts of excitement through him. Their relationship was still new but Geralt had never been more certain about anything in his life.

Jaskier stood a little behind Geralt as they entered the living room all eyes turning to them. Geralt kept a warm hand in Jaskier’s own as Jaskier lifted his head up and grinned at the room. Geralt was probably the only one to notice the brittle quality to it. “Sorry I reacted like that.” Jaskier apologised and Geralt seethed quietly. jaskier had nothing to apologise for. 

Triss stood up, grabbing Jaskier and wrapping arms around him. “You don’t need to apologise. I’m sorry I didn’t think.” Jaskier hesitantly hugged Triss back before letting go and letting Geralt lead him to the sofa. Geralt sat down, pulling Jaskier to him so the younger man Was leaning against Geralt’s side. Jaskier hummed, contently leaning further into the embrace as the room turned into talk around them. Geralt sighed happily, meeting Yennefer’s eyes. She looked down and Jaskier and nodded her head, smile on her face. 

The rest of the evening passed without issue, Jaskier coming back out of his shell once more and joining in the boisterous conversations happening around them. As they all started to leave, Jaskier gained a hug from everyone just as Geralt did and Geralt felt himself sighing in relief. His family accepted Jaskier and Geralt couldn’t be more pleased.

.....

Ciri was staying with Yennefer that night, Yennefer going to drop Ciri off at nursery the next day so Geralt and Jaskier could have the house to themselves. As they entered the door, Geralt could see the stiff line of Jaskier’s shoulders. “Jaskier?” Geralt asked quietly and Jaskier turned a dazzling smile on Geralt that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Can we talk?” geralt nodded, swallowing thickly at the serious tone of Jaskier’s voice. He may not have much experience in dating but he knew what those words meant. Jaskier seemed to realise what he had said as he pulled Geralt’s hands into his own offering a genuine smile, “I’m not breaking up with you. I love you.” Jaskier put as much emphasis on those last 3 words as possible, making Geralt’s heart clench with love. He’d never felt this way with Yennefer, an overwhelming love. Theirs had been a more passionate love while Jaskier...it felt like home Geralt thought as he let Jaskier lead them to Geralt’s kitchen.

“Tea?” Jaskier offered and Geralt nodded, watching as Jaskier moved around his kitchen as if he belonged there. And he did. Jaskier had only been in Geralt’s life for a little over a month but it was like there had always been a hole there waiting for Jaskier to fill.

When Jaskier placed the tea in front of Geralt and took a seat, Jaskier dropped his head into his hands. Geralt felt worry run over him as he watched Jaskier. He’d never seen him like this. Nerves running off him like waves as he stared down at the wooden table. Slowly Jaskier lifted his head and offered Geralt a wooden smile. “I’m famous.” He said it with a self deprecating smile, sighing into his hands.

Geralt hummed, unsure where Jaskier was going with this. “I always wanted my music to reach all over the world you know.” Jaskier suddenly diverted. “Since I was young enough to hold an instrument it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. I never thought I’d get there. I definitely didn’t realise what it actually meant.”

“What does it mean?” Geralt asked slowly, taking one of Jaskier’s hands in his own. He wanted to offer Jaskier comfort but he didn’t know how.

“All the attention. The scrutiny.” Jaskier sighed. “Every move I make it’s like it’s under a microscope. I don’t have a private life anymore. I can’t have one. Not with the way the media follow me around, waiting for some tiny little slip they can publish.” Jaskier sighed, blue eyes wide with emotion. Geralt listened, brows knitting together in confusion. “I went to the lake that day because it was secluded. It’s the first time in 6 months that I’ve had 5 minutes to myself to just be me...”. Jaskier sighed, looking down at the clothes he was wearing. Geralt frowned for a moment, taking note that once more Jaskier was in tight fitting clothing. He was always in tight fitting clothing. “I can’t even be myself in my own home. They got my address from somewhere. An ex I think. They’re always outside and if I’m not careful with the curtains they can get pictures of me in my own fucking living room.” Tears we’re running down Jaskier’s face now and Geralt wanted to wipe them away but he didn’t want to break Jaskier’s talking. It was like Jaskier was finally saying everything he had kept bottled for months.

“I shouldn’t mind. I’m living my dream.” Jaskier laughed a wet laugh, taking his hand from Geralt’s and letting his head drop down onto his palms once more staring at the wooden table. “I just didn’t think living my dream would mean I don’t get to be me anymore.”

“You can be you with me.” Geralt said softly. Jaskier lifted wet blue eyes to look at Geralt and shook his head slowly.

“No I can’t. Not really. We can’t go out in public. We can’t date like normal couples. not unless you want your face plastered all over every gossip magazine.” Geralt winced. He didn’t want that. He valued his privacy too much for his life to be plastered everywhere. Except, Geralt realised, if he wanted to stay with Jaskier then that was what his life would be.

Jaskier was looking at Geralt as if he knew this. As if he’d always known this. There was a sort of exception on Jaskier’s face as he looked at Geralt. “I’d understand if you wanted to leave me. No one could blame you. It’s a lot all of this and no matter what I do to hide our relationship there’s always a possibility someone will catch wind of it.”

“You can keep our relationship out of the media?” Geralt asked instantly, clinging onto the one thing that could keep Jaskier in Geralt’s life without compromising Geralt’s privacy.

Jaskier nodded. “I haven’t mentioned you to anyone. To be honest there isn’t anyone to mention it to.” Geralt lifted his head in confusion. Jaskier smiled softly, reading the unspoken question on Geralt’s face. “My parents aren’t happy I chose to become a musician they think I’m wasting my life. I didn’t have many friends to begin with and now, well most of them are only their because of the fame.” Geralt felt sadness build up at him at the lonely look that passed across Jaskier’s face at this admittance.

“Most?” Geralt asked, hoping beyond hope that there was at least someone in Jaskier’s life that cared for him.

“My manager. Priscilla. She’s brilliant and she’s helped with everything. All the adjusting but...”. Jaskier passed for a moment, searching for the right words. “She’s only here because of the fame. As much as she cares her job is to make my career successful.” Geralt nodded, guilt welling up in him. Jaskier truly has no one. No one except Geralt. “I’m not looking for pity.” Jaskier suddenly said, flashing blazing blue eyes at Geralt. “I don’t want it and I don’t want you to stay because of it. I just want you to understand.”

Geralt took Jaskier’s hands in his own face serious as his mind ran over everything he had heard. One fact stuck out more than any of it though, Geralt loved Jaskier. And because he loved Jaskier. Because Jaskier had become such an important part of his and Ciri’s life in the last month, Geralt couldn’t leave him. 

“You can keep the media away from Ciri and me?” Geralt stated and Jaskier nodded his head, blue eyes looking at Geralt in confusion.

“I’ll do everything. Can. I promise.” Geralt grunted, squeezing Jaskier’s hand tightly.

“Then I’m staying. I don’t want to lose you Jaskier. You’re important to me.” And proper smile flooded Jaskier’s face as the musician leant in to capture Geralt’s lips in a kiss.

They ended up in the bedroom after that, tea left forgotten on the table. As Geralt pulled at Jaskier’s skinny jeans he growled and Jaskier laughed into his mouth. The damn things would budge. “Just a minute.” Jaskier whispered against his lips, kissing him once before shimmying out of the pants. Geralt’s cock tented in his pants when he realised Jaskier hadn’t been wearing underwear. Though in fairness the tightness of those accursed skinny jeans wouldn’t have let him wear them either way. While Jaskier had done that stripped down fully and before Jaskier could even turn Geralt had captured him in a kiss once more. They collapsed onto the bed, a tangle of sweaty limbs and panting breath.

“I’ve never done this before.” Geralt admitted softly as Jaskier’s hands pulled expertly at Geralt’s erect cock.

“That’s ok love. We’ll take it slow for today.” Geralt grunted as Jaskier’s hands ran over him. Taking the brunette’s lead, Geralt reach over to Jaskier, kissing the man breathless as his hand searched Jaskier’s body. Jaskier moaned softly into Geralt’s lips as Geralt finished him off. Geralt grinned before moaning through his own orgasm to Jaskier’s deft fingers, calloused from hours on the guitar.

When they were finished Jaskier nuzzled close to Geralt’s chest, head resting on Geralt’s chest as Geralt ran fingers through Jaskier’s hair. They fell asleep like that.

......

Jaskier missed Geralt. He’d been on the road for the last month, not having a moment to himself as he ran through rehearsals and then show after show of his UK tour. It had left him exhausted and drained but Jaskier had loved every moment of it. The crowds singing back his songs to him word for word had left Jaskier giddy with excitement as he jumped along the stage. The only disappointing thing about the whole tour had been that Geralt hadn’t been able to come with him. But Geralt had his own commitments and a daughter as well for that matter. As much as Jaskier wanted him here he would have never asked Geralt to do that.

But Geralt was at this show. Jaskier’s final show in London O2 before the tour ended. Jaskier had been able to sneak Geralt onto the guest list when they had been on the phone the night previous and Geralt had mentioned an interest in seeing Jaskier perform. Priscilla had given him a sly look at seeing Geralt’s name on the list but Jaskier had just offered a shrug and a wink in response. He wasn’t about to explain Geralt’s presence on the guest list because it wasn’t anyone’s business but his own. Thankfully, Priscilla the dear that she was made no comment.

Jaskier and Geralt had been dating for nearly 4 months now and Jaskier could’ve have been happier. He had been deadly serious when promising to keep Geralt and Ciri away from the media so as much as it hurt he had to turn down a few too public outings that he had been invited to. It had been especially hard when Ciri had asked him to go to her school’s play where she was playing the part of a frog. As a compromise Jaskier had invited Ciri for a teddy bear picnic where she had given her frog performance to Jaskier in every perfect little detail.

Most of his belongings where now in Geralt’s home, Jaskier only going back to his own apartment for show at this point. He knew they were probably moving a bit too fast but Jaskier couldn’t bring himself to care. He loved Geralt and felt as if Geralt filled a hole Jaskier hadn’t even realised was missing in his life.

The performance was perhaps his best of the tour. The crowd was amazing, singing louder than any crowd previous. The arena was massive, a bigger venue than Jaskier had ever played and the amount of people he was singing to, that his music had touched, had had Jaskier walking on air the whole time. And of course Geralt was there. Jaskier didn’t know precisely where and he wouldn’t see Geralt until he got back to his hotel room where Geralt had agreed to meet him, but Geralt was there somewhere watching Jaskier perform.

When Jaskier finished his encore, he jumped off the stage down to the backstage area sweating madly through the costume he was wearing. His face was broken in half with a grin which Priscilla returned when she met him halfway to his dressing room. Jaskier pulled her into a massive hug, which she returned. “I’ll never be able to repay you for all this.” Jaskier said she he finally let her go, brushing sweat damp hair from his face.

“You don’t have to thank me Jaskier. You would have done this with or without me. You’re made for this.” And Jaskier glowed with the pride as she shooed him back to his dressing room to change.

The whole journey back to his hotel Jaskier felt himself jumping with unspent Adrenalin from the concert. When he got to his hotel room, Jaskier was a little disappointed to find Geralt hadn’t arrived yet but seeing the traffic around the arena he could understand it. He decided to take a quick shower before Geralt got to the room, the sweat starting to stick unpleasantly to his body.

He was so engrossed in the warm shower that he didn’t hear the hotel door click open so when he walked out of the room in just a towel, hair damp from the shower, he jumped when he saw Geralt sitting on the bed. He had left the hotel key under the mat outside his hotel room, letting Geralt know so he could get in without being noticed.

Geralt’s amber eyes were fixed on Jaskier a predatory look on his face. Before Jaskier knew what was happening Geralt had captured his lips into a breath stealing kiss, warm hands wresting on Jaskier’s towel covered hips as Geralt pushed him onto the bed. “You were fucking amazing.” Geralt growled, as he broke the kiss to let Jaskier remove his shirt.

“You think so.” Jaskier grinned, basking in the praise as Geralt returned to the kissing. Geralt grunted, letting Jaskier pull his jeans off as Geralt removed the towel from around Jaskier’s hips. 

When Geralt penetrated Jaskier, Jaskier moaned with the pressure, digging nails into Geralt’s back as he leant into the feeling. Geralt groaned, kissing Jaskier warmly, keeping his thrusts gentle until Jaskier was begging for him to speed up. They collapsed together, legs entangled and breathing harshly.

Geralt wrapped arms around Jaskier and Jaskier leant backwards. More happy than he ever thought possible.

.....

Geralt and Jaskier moved in together officially 6 months after dating. It had been Geralt’s idea, surprisingly. After a long discussion with Ciri who had agreed instantly at the thought of Jaskier moving in with them, Geralt had broached the subject with Jaskier. Jaskier had been hesitant at first, worried that the media may find out Geralt’s address as they had Jaskier’s but Geralt had assured Jaskier with soft kisses and words. After all Jaskier was practically already living with Geralt anyway and no one knew about it. So Jaskier had agreed.

They were happy together. Happier than either had been in their entire lives. And Geralt honestly thought nothing could change that.


	2. Chapter 2

“I’m really sorry Jaskier.” Jaskier kept the smile plastered on his face even as he felt the worry creep up over him at the thought of Priscilla leaving.

“It’s fine, Priscilla. Really.” Jaskier said in what he hoped was a convincing tone.

“You’re sure you’ll be ok?” Priscilla asked, worry sparking in her eyes and Jaskier couldn’t bare to let her think otherwise so he offered he his largest smile possible. She took one last look at him as if to make sure before nodding. “The label said they’d get a new manager sorted in a few weeks. If you need anything until then, please ring me.” Jaskier nodded, pulling her into a large hug.

“I’ll be fine Priscilla. Thank you for everything.” He sent her a real smile at this, well aware he owed Priscilla a lot more than a thank you. If it hadn’t been for her Jaskier would probably still be singing in dingy bars, not millions of people.

“It was a pleasure Jaskier. I’ll miss you.” She said, tears forming in her eyes but she brushed them away, grabbing her bag and left without a glance backwards.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Jaskier collapsed onto the chair and dropped his head into his hands. The last thing Jaskier had expected that morning coming to the studio to finish recording his new album was for Priscilla to quit her job as his manager. He couldn’t begrudge her happiness. Jaskier cared to much for his former manager to argue that she should stay. He knew Priscilla had been considering leaving her job for a while now, the only reason she’d stayed was because of him. And now she was pregnant and well, Jaskier couldn’t blame her for wanting to get out of the high pressure cooker that was the music industry. Sometimes Jaskier honestly wanted that for himself. She deserved to have freedom away from managing Jaskier daily so Jaskier couldn’t be mad at her for quitting.

Jaskier was just worried. He knew how much work Priscilla put in and no one would be replacing Priscilla for a few weeks yet, leaving Jaskier to manage himself. The only bonus was Priscilla had organised all his press for the next couple of weeks. His new single was coming out next week, the album would be finished today which just left, what Priscilla described, as a shit tone of press to do. Jaskier could do that. He’d been doing it for over 5 years now. He could manage a few weeks on his own.

“You ready Jaskier?” The producer called out over the microphone and Jaskier plastered on a smile before getting up and walking into the booth.

“Whenever you are.” Jaskier said, grabbing his guitar and stringing a few tunes on it to make sure it was still in tune. 

“Excellent. Last few recordings and we’ll be done.” Jaskier nodded, an actual smile cropping onto his face now. It had been a long month between recording the new album and making the music video for the new single. Jaskier had barely seen Geralt in all that time and all he wanted to do was fall into the arms of the man he loved. Stringing the opening note of the song, Jaskier smiled because that was exactly what he planned to do tonight. 

.....

“When’s Jaskier back?” Ciri asked excitedly, homework sitting on the dining room table forgotten. She’d grown a lot in the last 5 years, no longer the tiny little child that Geralt used to be able to hoist onto his shoulders. She was 10 now and Geralt couldn’t believe it. It only felt like 5 minutes ago when she was in a baby stroller. 

“Soon.” Geralt promised. Jaskier had phoned an hour ago and had happily declared he had finished at the studio and would be returning home with takeout. He had sounded tired on the phone and Geralt had felt his heart tighten. It had been a hard month of barely seeing Jaskier past a quick hello as Jaskier flew in the house for a few hours sleep before disappearing again. Geralt missed him. And if Ciri’s pout at his answer was any indication so did she.

“Does he always have to go away for so long?” Ciri sighed, homework now completely forgotten as she jumped off her seat to look out of the front living room window, waiting for the familiar look of Jaskier’s car.

Geralt sighed. The first time Jaskier had left for an extended period of time was for Jaskier’s first UK tour only a few months after Geralt had started dating the musician. It had been hard then and it had only gotten harder every time Jaskier left for weeks on end. Jaskier and Geralt called as often as they could and Jaskier always kept his trips as short as possible but Geralt always felt like part of him was missing when Jaskier disappeared for weeks at a time. If not for Ciri Geralt would probably have gone with him, the White Wolf bar able to run itself without Geralt’s constant attention, but they had Ciri. Yennefer looked after a few additional nights so Geralt could visit Jaskier wherever the musicians’ work had taken him to that particular week but it wasn’t always possible. After all Yennefer had a life of her own.

It probably didn’t help that whenever Jaskier was away to long he would come back and the spark in his eyes would be a little dimmer. Geralt knew Jaskier overworked himself, always wanting to give the best he could. To give his fans everything he had and it infuriated Geralt. It was the only thing they ever argued about. Jaskier not taking care of himself. Not having any self preservation for his own health. And there wasn’t anything Geralt could do about it when Jaskier wasn’t here. And that hurt Geralt more than anything, not being able to look after Jaskier when the other man was so obviously exhausted over the phone or when Geralt watched Jaskier’s interviews and could see the line of tension Jaskier had on his shoulders. 

“He’s here.” Ciri’s excited voice broke Geralt out of his musings. He opened the door just as Jaskier was pulling out his keys, pizza boxes balanced on one hand. Jaskier’s bright blue eyes widened in surprise before a soft smile appeared on his face. Geralt felt his heart lift at the sight of his other half, taking the pizza boxes out of Jaskier’s hands just in time for Ciri to barge past him and fling herself at Jaskier.

“Hello to you to Cirilla.” Jaskier laughed, dropping to his knees so Ciri was now slightly taller than him. He wrapped arms tightly around her as Ciri did the same.

“I missed you.” Geralt tried to ignore the tightening in his chest at Ciri’s broken voice. 

“I missed you to.” Jaskier said, voice soft and tender as he squeezed Geralt’s daughter in his arms. 

“You won’t leave again for so long right?” Ciri said, letting go of Jaskier and bouncing in place, worry on her face. A frown crossed Jaskier’s face but the smile remained in place.

“I’ll try.” Ciri looked at Jaskier intently before nodding, rushing off into the kitchen. Jaskier stood up, face turning to face Geralt.

Geralt could see the tired black rings around Jaskier’s eyes and the slump in his shoulders showing how exhausted he was. Jaskier hadn’t been home in the last 3 days, spending the whole time in the recording studio recording his new album and Geralt and Ciri had barely heard a word from him in that time minus the odd phone call or text. It wasn’t surprising, Geralt was used to Jaskier doing this when he was recording his new songs but it still hurt not to see or hear from Jaskier in days.

“I missed you.” Jaskier smiled, taking the boxes from Geralt’s arms and placing them on the counter. Geralt grunted, wrapping arms around Jaskier’s slim waist and dropping his head down so he could place a kiss to Jaskier’s lips. Jaskier hummed into the kiss, arms wrapping around Geralt’s shoulders, fingers knotting in the white hair.

“Where’s dinner I’m hungry?” Ciri’s shout broke the kiss and both men laughed as Geralt took the boxes and walked towards the kitchen.

When Jaskier didn’t follow, Geralt turned and raised an eyebrow. Jaskier just rolled his eyes, gesturing the outfit Geralt remembered seeing Jaskier get changed into 4 days ago before disappearing to the studio to finish his recording. “I haven’t showered in days Geralt. Not everyone likes to smell like a caveman.”

“I do not smell like a caveman.” Geralt growled, not heat in his words as Jaskier laughed.

“You do when you come back from he gym.” Geralt grunted, Jaskier laughing further. “I’ll be down in 10 minutes.” And before Geralt could protest Jaskier was halfway up the stairs. Ciri’s frustrated groan had Geralt taking his eyes from Jaskier’s disappearing figure and taking the food to the kitchen.

But the time Jaskier came back down, Ciri had put in a movie (Toy Story) and the pizza was sitting on the coffee table in the middle of the room. Ciri had claimed the armchair and already had a plate piled high so Jaskier filled his own plate and settled into the sofa next to Geralt.

Geralt placed his free hand around Jaskier’s shoulders, letting the musician snuggle close to Geralt’s side. Geralt smiled as the scent of Jaskier’s strawberry shampoo drifted from his wet brown hair. He was wearing the pyjama’s Ciri had bought him for Christmas, bright blue with pink unicorns scattered on the pants and t-shirt. Jaskier had been brimming with joy at the present.

As they sat with the movie playing and Jaskier settled against his side, Geralt felt the peace that had been missing for weeks run through him. Their little family was whole again.

.....

Jaskier looked up from his channel surfing as Geralt settled himself back on the sofa after putting Ciri to bed. It was gone 10 and while Geralt wouldn’t usually let Ciri stay up so late, Jaskier knew the bigger man hadn’t had the heart to make Ciri go to bed when Jaskier had only just gotten home. “How is she?” Jaskier asked as he settled back into Geralt’s arms.

“Good.” Geralt grunted, resting his head on the top of Jaskier’s head. “She missed you.” 

“I missed her to.” Jaskier said, heart clenching a little. “I missed you to.” Geralt hummed, kissing Jaskier’s head softly. “I didn’t mean to be gone so long.” Jaskier said in way of an apology. He knew Geralt hated when he disappeared like he had for the last 3 days but he couldn’t help when he got lost in the music, forgetting what time of day it even was.

“I know.” Geralt accepted. “She took it better than usual.” Geralt hummed and Jaskier nodded. It had been difficult the first time he had to leave when he had first moved in with Geralt and Ciri. It had been the start of his first world tour and Ciri had been in tears before he had even left the threshold of their home, to young to understand why she wouldn’t see Jaskier for a month.

“Good.” Jaskier sighed.

“You’re not leaving again for a while yet are you?” Geralt asked, leaving Jaskier with a pit of guilt in his stomach. He knew he should tell Geralt that Priscilla had quit and that the new few weeks until Jaskier’s new manager turned up would be stressful at best for Jaskier but he couldn’t bring to ruin the moment. Geralt always got so worried whenever Jaskier talked about his job. The white haired man saw first hand how the stress of being in the public eye could affect Jaskier, leaving him exhausted and depleted in a way nothing else could. They’d talked about Jaskier taking a years break but Jaskier hadn’t found the time yet. His schedule only increasing by the year as his music grew in popularity. 

“I’ve got until next Friday free.” Jaskier said, knowing he couldn’t promise he wouldn’t be gone for days at a time after that. 

“Next Friday.” Geralt grunted unhappily. Jaskier nodded.

“You’ll just have to make the most of me until then I suppose.” Jaskier grinned, leaning up to kiss Geralt’s lips tenderly. Geralt grunted into Jaskier’s lips, tightening his hold on Jaskier before grinning.

“Then we have lost time to make up for.” Jaskier had no idea what Geralt meant until the white haired man was wrapping large arms around Jaskier’s legs and standing from the sofa, TV forgotten, with Jaskier in his arms. Jaskier screeched, only blatantly remembering to keep his voice down so Ciri didn’t hear them. Geralt chuckled softly, the noise vibrating through his chest.

“Caveman.” Jaskier deduced, though he didn’t struggle as Geralt carried him up the stairs bridal style. It was the safest and most loved Jaskier ever felt. In Geralt’s arms.

.....

The week passed in a blur. Jaskier spent most of it alternating his time between Ciri and Jaskier. They had Sunday dinner at Vesemir’s that weekend, Jaskier glad the monthly get together had fallen on his only week off for the foreseeable future. Jaskier loved the Sunday dinner’s at Vesemir’s home. Loved the atmosphere of love and family that filled the place as their family sat together. Loved every part of those meals and the people there. The only thing he regretted was he wasn’t always able to attend, kept busy with work. Those days when he couldn’t attend he would sit wherever he was instead (either an interview or in another city or even country preparing for that nights show) with a heavy heart as he wished he was at the table listening to Triss and Lambert argue. Or Ciri entertaining them all with stories. Or Geralt interacting with his siblings. Or the easy banter he shared with Yennefer, trading insults back and forth. Or Vesemir’s fatherly smile as he sat at the head of the table watching the chaos of the family gatherings. Those family dinners were Jaskier’s favourite part of every month.

Jaskier was woken quite abruptly at 6am Friday morning to his phone buzzing. Careful not to wake Geralt sleeping next to him in the bed, Jaskier disentangled himself from Geralt’s arms, taking his phone downstairs to the kitchen before answering.

“Where are you?” Susan, one of Jaskier’s make-up artists snapped over the phone as soon as Jaskier answered it. 

“What?” Jaskier asked, confusion running through him as he tried to place where he should be. The schedule Priscilla had left him had said he didn’t have anything until midday, an interview with a music magazine.

“You were meant to be at This Morning 10 minutes ago.” Susan sighed angrily over the phone. “You leave it any later your going to be late for hair an make-up.”

“I haven’t got anything until midday.” Jaskier stammered, heart racing as he tried to mentally work out how long it would take him to get there.

“Well you do now. Didn’t anyone tell you.” Susan sighed over the phone. “The label changed your schedule for the day. They should have sent you an e-mail at the beginning of the week.” And Jaskier cursed himself for not checking. That was Priscilla’s job. She always told him where he was meant to be, made sure he was on time. He hadn’t expected anyone to actually change the precise schedule Priscilla had laid out for him.

“I’ll be their in an hour.”

“You better.” Susan snapped over the phone. “Any later and you’ll be going on without prep.” She cut off the line before Jaskier could even say goodbye.

Jaskier was showered and dressed within 10 minutes, a note written and placed on the table in way of apology to Geralt and Ciri for leaving without saying goodbye. He considered grabbing breakfast but looking at the clock, realised he didn’t have the time if he didn’t want to be any later than he already was.

He was in the studio 50 minutes later. An outfit change shoved into his hands by an unhappy Susan, who took one look at the clothes Jaskier had grabbed in his haste to be here and frowned. Jaskier felt himself blush in embarrassment as he changed into the tight fitting red jeans and clinging white t-shirt she had pushed into his hands as he looked at the clothes he had been wearing. A pair of faded jeans and one of Geralt’s shirts. He’d been in such a haste to get here he hadn’t even realised what he was putting on.

Jaksier was thankful he’d washed his hair the night before as Susan put the hair and make-up artists to work. By the time he was finished, Jaskier looked in the mirror, almost not recognising himself and sighed internally.

“Here.” Susan grumbled, shoving a piece of paper onto Jaskier’s lap. “I had the label pull up your schedule for the next few days.” Jaskier looked over the large list of interviews and swallowed thickly. The list was long. Longer than the list Priscilla had provided. He barely had time between to get to each interview, let alone have a break of any kind. “Hair and make-up will be good until tonight. We’ll meet you at the venue and you’r performing the new single there.” Jaskier nodded, stomach growling. Dimly he was aware he hadn’t had chance to grab breakfast but looking at the schedule it looked like he wouldn’t have time to grab any sort of breakfast. In fact the schedule didn’t give him a moments grace all day.

“And smile, Jaskier.” Susan sighed, spraying the hairspray in a loud cloud that had Jaskier’s eyes watering up.

Closing his eyes, Jaskier took a fortifying breath before plastering on the fake smile he had gotten so used to wearing when going through these interviews. “Better.” Susan said, smile appraising before walking away.

Jaskier felt the smile falter slightly but he kept in place, pulling out his phone. The text he sent to Geralt was quick and to the point, aware that he didn’t have time for much else Jaskier felt a stabbing of guilt at the knowledge Geralt and Ciri would be waking up without him there and that he wouldn’t see them properly for a few days at least. As Jaskier got up, standing at the wings ready to be called up for the interview, Jaskier was glad he’d spent the last week enjoying his time with Ciri and Geralt. The time with his family was the only thing that was going to get Jaskier through the next few days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed, thank you for reading :)


	3. Chapter 3

Geralt reached his arm over to Jaskier’s side of the bed as he started towards wakefulness. When he felt the cold empty place where Jaskier had fallen asleep that night, his eyes flew open. The bed was empty. Jaskier wasn’t there. Geralt groaned, looking over at the alarm clock at the bottom of the bed. It wasn’t even 7. Jaskier never got up early when he didn’t have to. Usually it was an effort to get Jaskier up when he had no where to be. Jaskier would cuddle up to Geralt, refusing to move as he leeched Geralt’s body heat. The only thing that Jaskier got up for were appointments he had for work but Geralt knew Jaskier’s first interview wasn’t until midday.

He’d been planning, after dropping Ciri off at school, to take Jaskier to the lake they’d met at and have a late breakfast before Jaskier had to disappear for the day. Geralt hadn’t been expecting to wake up to Jaskier not being in bed with him.

Now fully awake, and concern running through him, Geralt pulled himself out of bed, pulling on an old shirt so he wasn’t going downstairs bare chest. The house was quiet, Ciri still asleep. Geralt would have to wake her u in half an hour so he was quiet as he walked downstairs, not wanting to disturb Ciri’s sleep.

As he walked past the bathroom, Geralt frowned. The bathroom was damp as if someone had only recently had a shower. The only person Geralt could think to have done that was Jaskier but why would Jaskier do that when he didn’t have anywhere to be. The kitchen was quiet, the early spring sun barely lighting the room as Geralt’s eyes focused on the scrap of paper left on the dining room table.

Geralt picked it up and sighed. It was written in Jaskier’s neat scrawl, reading:

/Work called, I’ve got an interview this morning, sorry I didn’t have chance to say goodbye, I didn’t want to wake you. Hope your day is lovely and see you soon x /

Jaskier had drawn a little heart at the bottom of the paper but Geralt barely registered it, anger running through him. Geralt scrunched the note in his fist as he pushed the anger away. He knew it wasn’t Jaskier’s fault. Jaskier’s career kept him busy 24/7 and there wasn’t anything Jaskier could do to help it. But Jaskier had promised years ago after the 5th disappearance in a month, where Jaskier would get a call from work and leave the house without saying goodbye. They’d only just moved in together and Geralt was still getting used to Jaskier being famous and being called away for days at a time on short notice. Ciri hadn’t understood at the time why Jaskier left without saying goodbye, crying every time it happened. After the 5th time, Geralt had lost his patience. He had shouted at Jaskier, Jaskier standing and taking it because he knew Geralt was right. That it wasn’t fair on Geralt or Ciri to just vanish in the middle of the night and not return for days at a time. So Jaskier had promised to Geralt that he wouldn’t anymore. If he had an early morning start then Jaskier made sure to say his goodbyes to Ciri the night before, Geralt always waking up with Jaskier so he could see Jaskier out of the door.

Priscilla, Jaskier’s manager, had even started e-mailing him Jaskier’s schedule. She’d found out about Geralt by accident, when he’d come to pick up Jaskier from the studio 3 years ago. Jaskier hadn’t had a choice but to introduce Geralt to Priscilla then and while Geralt had been apprehensive about meeting Jaskier’s manager, not wanting to be involved in that side of Jaskier’s life, he was glad he’d met her. She was only a few years older than Jaskier but it was obvious to Geralt that she cared for the musician. She always let Geralt know when it looked like Jaskier was overworking himself. Scheduled Jaskier’s appointments around Jaskier’s life with Geralt and Ciri. Made sure Jaskier took time off. 

Jaskier disappearing in the middle of the night and leaving only a note in way of explanation hadn’t happened in so long Geralt had forgotten the feeling of betrayal that flooded him. That Jaskier’s life as a famous singer was more important that his life with Geralt and Ciri.

Resigning himself to talking to Jaskier when the musician next appeared, Geralt made himself a cup of coffee, ready to wake Ciri up for the day.

.....

Jaskier was exhausted. He had a moment to himself all day, being dragged from one interview to another all day. He supposed he was lucky when he’d gone for radio interview at 2 that afternoon. It had been someone’s birthday and he’d been offered a piece of the delicious cake that had been brought in. Usually Jaskier was politely refuse, knowing he was only being offered out of obligation rather than a want for him to share in a celebration with someone he didn’t even know but Jaskier had only had an apple all day (which he’d managed to grab between interviews) and he was starving.

He’d managed to text Geralt and Ciri between interviews, guilt flaring up as he did so. He hadn’t meant to leave without warning but Jaskier hadn’t known what to do. He hadn’t wanted to wake Ciri or Geralt up and it wasn’t like he had been given much warning himself. But still the guilt gnawed through him all day. He’d promised Geralt he wouldn’t do this anymore.

The outfit his stylists had chosen for him for that nights performance was tacky in Jaskier’s honest opinion. Bright yellow skinny jeans, black that clung to tightly for Jaskier’s tastes, with black boots. Jaskier sighed, as he closed his eyes, letting the make-up artists put the finishing touches onto his make-up. It was nearly 10 at night and all Jaskier wanted to do was go home and sleep but he’d be luck to get home by midnight and then he had an early morning radio show at 7 the next morning so there went any chance of decent sleep.

If Priscilla had been there she would have argued with the label to push in some breaks for him but she wasn’t. Jaskier could ask for the breaks but he’d heard to many horror stories of artists being classed as diva’s for him to take the risk of asking. He didn’t want to appear ungrateful and trying to push interviews back or cancel them all together would have made him look exactly that.

“Ready?” Susan asked, finished the final touches and stepping back with an appraising look. Jaskier plastered on the smile again, picking up his guitar and nodded. Holding the guitar in his hands, Jaskier felt his courage bolster and stepping out onto the stage to the blinding lights and cameras pointed directly at him, audience screaming in welcome, Jaskier felt all the nerves and stress of the day melt away. This was why he did it. Not the fame, not the money, not even the fans. He did it for the simple pleasure of standing with an audience of millions, listening to the songs he wrote. The songs he wrote that bared his very heart and soul to the world.

........

“What’s wrong?” Yennefer asked, standing in the empty bar of the White Wolf. She had come to pick up Ciri’s backpack ready for the weekend.

“Nothing.” Geralt grunted.

“That means everything.” Triss replied from her place behind the bar, cleaning glasses. Geralt sent her a glare over his shoulder, before turning back to Yennefer.

Yennefer raised an eyebrow, dropping Ciri’s pack back onto the floor. There was anger clear in Geralt’s eyes. “You can’t lie to me Geralt. We’ve known each other to long.”

Geralt sighed, some of the anger disappearing from his eyes and being replaced by hurt. “It’s Jaskier.” Geralt sighed and Yennefer felt her heart pick up.

“Did you fight?” Triss asked, worry clear in her tone.

Geralt shook his head. “He disappeared this morning.” Yennefer felt anger boil in her at those words. She remembered what it had been like when Geralt and Jaskier had first moved in together, Jaskier disappearing for days at a time without a moments warning. Geralt had been a mess, worry clear in his eyes not knowing where Jaskier even was. Ciri hadn’t been much better, crying whenever Jaskier did it. Yennefer had laid into Jaskier the first time she had seen the musician and Jaskier had looked guilty. Very guilty. Apparently Geralt had already said his piece of Jaskier’s disappearances and Jaskier had promised not to do so again. Yennefer had believed him.

“Is Ciri ok?” Yennefer asked, her first instinct to make sure Ciri was ok with Jaskier’s sudden disappearance. She’d been nervous the first time Geralt had told her about Jaskier. Nervous that Geralt was letting Jaskier into Ciri’s life because she knew how quickly Ciri got attached to others and Jaskier wasn’t a stable person to get attached to. His career, his lifestyle, it was so far out of Yennefer’s understanding. The last thing she’d wanted was for Jaskier to hurt Ciri or for Jaskier’s career to hurt Ciri. And while Ciri got upset when Jaskier left for tours and press, the older she got the more she understood why Jaskier left. And Jaskier always came back, always phoned her every second he could. When Ciri had gotten her first phone 2 years ago, Jaskier had spent that years tour texting Ciri every second he got. The smile on Ciri’s face had been wide at the continuous stream of texts from Jaskier. 

But Yennefer still had reservations to this day. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Jaskier. Jaskier was as much a part of her family now as Geralt was. He was always there whenever any of them needed it. When Vesemir had been hospitalised a year ago from a heart attack, Jaskier had been in America doing press. No one had expected him to come to the hospital but Jaskier had turned up anyway. He’d gotten the first plane home, saying his family was more important than anything else. Vesemir had been fine, thankfully, but Jaskier had made it clear if anything happened while he was away for them to call him and he would be there. Yennefer respected that.

But the fame that followed Jaskier around every moment of his life was still a barrier. Jaskier couldn’t do normal family outings like the rest of them. He couldn’t just take Ciri to the museum or out for dinner without the media getting whiff of it and Yennefer hated the idea of Ciri’s face being plastered all over the news linked to Jaskier. She didn’t want her daughter exposed to the media’s scrutiny. So Jaskier stayed away from public outings. Yennefer knew it hurt him to do it. To not be able to let Geralt take him out for meals, or to even drop or pick Ciri off at school. But Jaskier respected their wishes to remain away from the spotlight. Yennefer knew Jaskier had publicly said he was in a relationship but the media didn’t even know if it was a man he was with. Yennefer had laughed the first time a magazine printed an article about Jaskier’s supposed mystery girl. She could just imagine Geralt being 5 foot tall with long blonde hair. 

“She’s fine.” Geralt assured her. “Jaskier texted saying he’d take Ciri out for a picnic the first chance he got.” Yennefer nodded, her anger easing. Jaskier would always do what he could for Ciri and Yennefer didn’t doubt that for a second.

“And you?” Yennefer asked, knowing Geralt took Jaskier’s leavings hard. It didn’t matter that Jaskier obviously didn’t want to go, only going because it was his job, Geralt always worried about Jaskier. It didn’t help that Jaskier didn’t exactly leave much for Geralt to not worry about. The flamboyant musician had no self preservation skills at all. Yennefer honestly didn’t know how he’d survived so long before Geralt and by extension Geralt’s family had come into his life to make sure Jaskier ate, slept and rested.

Geralt just grunted and Yennefer sighed. Geralt had never been one for words. She hoisted up Ciri’s bag and gave Geralt a pointed look. “Just remember not to blame him.” Geralt hummed and Yennefer sighed again. Jaskier and Geralt’s relationship was, in Lamberts words, sickening to the extreme. And Yennefer couldn’t deny it. They were always touching in some way, sending love eyes at one another. But Yennefer knew that Geralt still struggled with Jaskier’s fame. Still struggled with the knowledge that he could never fully have Jaskier to himself. That there would always be legions of fans fighting Geralt for Jaskier’s attention. And it didn’t matter that Jaskier would always chose Geralt. It was so painfully obvious that Jaskier loved Geralt more than anything and Yennefer was sure if Geralt ever actually asked, Jaskier would give up his fame in a second for Geralt. But Geralt, emotionally stunted man that he was could never see it.

Yennefer gave Geralt one more look before exiting the bar. They’d sort it out between themselves. Jaskier had always had more patience than her when it came to Geralt. He was the only person Yennefer had ever met that could get Geralt out of his own head. And Yennefer envied that. Just a little.

......

Geralt didn’t intend to watch Jaskier’s performance but he was in his office, going through paperwork. The song playing from the bar was one of Jaskier’s and the sound of Jaskier’s melodic voice thumping through the speakers had Geralt’s heart beat a little faster. What he wouldn’t give to have Jaskier in front of him now.

He had the TV on and flicked over to Jaskier’s performance before he even realised what he was doing. It was still a few minutes before Jaskier came on so Geralt did his best to tune out the hosts obnoxious interviewing of his guests. When the host finally announced Jaskier’s name, Geralt lifted his gaze from the paperwork which he had only been half looking through.

Jaskier was standing in the middle of the makeshift stage, guitar placed in his hands and blue eyes shining as he trimmed the opening to his music. Geralt closed his eyes as he let Jaskier’s soft voice run through him. he remembered Jaskier writing this song. He’d been fiddling with melody’s and tunes for weeks, driving Geralt mad as the house was filled with the sounds of Jaskier’s composing. When Jaskier had finally finished, he’d demanded Geralt and Ciri be the first to hear it. Ciri had been beyond excited, Geralt less so. It wasn’t that he disliked Jaskier’s music, he enjoyed it. The emotion Jaskier gave off in every song had Geralt’s heart thundering with the beat. But he’d been listening to this particular song for weeks now, Jaskier playing with the tunes and melody’s continuously to the point Geralt was never able to get the song out of his head.

But the song hadn’t sounded anything like what Jaskier had been working on for weeks. It had been beautiful. Raw, Jaskier’s heart and soul bared to the world. Listening to the lyrics, Geralt hadn’t understood how he had missed the simple metaphors Jaskier used to sing his love and adoration for his family. Because the song was about them. Geralt, Ciri, Yennefer, Triss, Vesemir, Eskel and Lambert. It wasn’t obvious and if you didn’t know Jaskier well you wouldn’t realise. But it was. It was little wonder Jaskier had chosen this song for his new single.

When Jaskier finished his songs, Geralt felt the magic of Jaskier’s voice fade away. The guitar was taken from Jaskier and the singer took his seat on the couch, opposite the obnoxious host and Geralt saw the shift. The shift from Jaskier singing his heart and soul out, from enjoying the performance to Jaskier now. His shoulder’s tight and smile plastered on his face that screamed fake. Geralt felt his heart clench as he saw the exhaustion in those deep blue eyes and had a sudden worry that Jaskier hadn’t rested all day. He’d been up early and had been going all day. Geralt knew Jaskier rarely let himself take a break and looking at the exhausted slump in Jaskier’s shoulder Geralt knew in that moment Jaskier was pushing himself to far.

Any anger that had been running through Geralt immediately evaporated, repacked with only worry.

.......

Jaskier sighed as he finally pulled his car up outside his and Geralt’s home. He was exhausted. Bone weary. All he wanted to do was sleep but he knew he wouldn’t be able to. Still amped up from the days press interviews, Jaskier would be lucky to get an hours sleep before he had to get up again in the morning.

Sighing, Jaskier took his guitar from the case and crept into the house in silence. Geralt’s car was back, something Jaskier wasn’t overly surprised at. The bar was only open until 11 and Geralt always headed home straight after, saying he could get the paperwork and clean up the next morning. Not wanting to wake Geralt, Jaskier closed the door silently behind him, shrugging out of his coat and placing it on the coat hanger.

“Jaskier.” Geralt’s gruff voice had Jaskier jumping in shock, not expecting Geralt to still be awake at this time. It was long past midnight now, Jaskier having stayed longer at the studio than he’d wanted to, being dragged into conversations with the host and other interviewees long past the show finishing.

“Geralt.” Jaskier smiled, feeling a little self conscious in the bight yellow skinny jeans he hadn’t had the energy or patience to take off before leaving. He’d drop them off with the stylists tomorrow.

Geralt was silent, face unreadable in the semi darkness of the living room. Jaskier felt nerves run through him, knowing Geralt was no doubt angry at him for disappearing so suddenly. So when Geralt walked over and wrapped warm arms around Jaskier he was completely taken off guard.

Jaskier felt himself melt into the embrace, all the stress rushing away in the comforting embrace of Geralt’s arms. “I’m sorry.” Jaskier mumbled into Geralt’s chest, guilt welling up.

Geralt took a hand and gently lifted Jaskier’s chin so they were looking eye to eye. Geralt’s amber eyes were blazing as he looked into Jaskier’s own blue ones. “Why didn’t you say anything?” Geralt asked voice soft and Jaskier felt himself blush. It was his own fault, he should have checked his schedule the day before, not just presumed everything had stayed as is. How many times had things changed last minute. Nearly every time. Jaskier was used to that. But the problem was Priscilla usually took care of it all, told Jaskier were he was meant to be. And the second she’d left Jaskier had let all that careful planning go to shit and had been completely lost because of it. Not having the faintest clue where he was supposed to be as he jumped from one interview to the next without a seconds notice. “Jaskier.” Geralt’s voice was full of concern and Jaskier felt all the stress of the day finally bubble over.

The tear were running down Jaskier’s face before he could stop them as he sobbed into Geralt’s shirt.

....

Geralt felt panic clawing at him as he held Jaskier in his arms, the younger man sobbing into Geralt’s shirt. He hadn’t meant to make Jaskier cry. He had wanted to comfort him, not upset him. Geralt gently moved them over to the sofa, aware Jaskier was still wearing the outfit he’d worn for his last interview. Up close, Geralt could see the pants barely left room for Jaskier to breath and knew he couldn’t be comfortable in them.

“I’m sorry.” Jaskier stuttered, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “It’s just been a long day.” Geralt hummed worry still running through him.

“What happened?” Geralt asked softly. Jaskier had stopped crying now, trying to pull away from Geralt but Geralt pulled him closer so Jaskier was a firm solid weight against his side.

“Priscilla quit.” Jaskier mumbled and Geralt felt panic run through him. He had trusted Priscilla to look after Jaskier, knew she did everything she could to help Jaskier through the daily trying of Jaskier’s career.

“When?” Geralt asked, running hands through Jaskier’s hair, wincing at the sticky quality of it. Hairspray he thought, running his hands through the hair until it started to turn back to Jaskier’s usual soft and bouncy locks.

“Last week.” Jaskier sighed, earning further into Geralt’s arms. 

“Why didn’t you tell me.” Geralt asked. He would have thought Jaskier would have told him if his manager had quit. If the one person who helped keep Jaskier on an even keel during his professional life had left.

“I didn’t want to worry you.” Jaskier admitted, turning bright blue eyes to face Geralt. “I thought I could handle it.”

“And you can’t?” Geralt pressed. He knew the pressure of Jaskier’s career was difficult for Jaskier sometimes. That Jaskier struggled with the days and weeks apart from Geralt, his family. That Jaskier struggled with the daily pressures that came with being in the public eye every moment of every day.

“I can.” jaskier argued but the exhausted slump in Jaskier’s shoulders told Geralt otherwise. “I just...the label. They changed my schedule and it was just a lot today.”

“Did you eat?” Geralt immediately asked. He knew Jaskier would work himself to the point of exhaustion, forgetting to eat, even when Priscilla had been there. Without Priscilla there a skier was liable to overstretch himself to the extreme. Jaskier shook his head like Ciri might have if she’d been caught doing something she wasn’t meant to. “Shit, Jaskier.” Geralt sighed. “You can’t do this to yourself.”

“I know.” Jaskier grumbled. “But I haven’t got much fo a choice.” And the defeated tone in Jaskier’s voice had Geralt’s heart clench. Jaskier did have a choice. It was something Geralt had been toying with for the last year now, Jaskier looking more worn down with every tour, ever press interview. But he hadn’t been able to say it. Because Jaskier loved his music. It was part of him. Jaskier without music, it was impossible to think of. And as much as it hurt Geralt to see Jaskier wearing himself thin because of his music, Geralt would never ask Jaskier to stop. 

“I know.” Geralt said instead, squeezing Jaskier hard against his chest. It hurt to admit he couldn’t do anything. But it was the truth. Jaskier’s world was foreign to Geralt and as much as he wanted to help he couldn’t do anything. The best he could do was to be there for Jaskier as much as the other man needed him to be.

......

The next 2 weeks were hard. Jaskier barley had time to breath, let alone rest outside of the few hours of sleep he managed to grab every night. He knew it was difficult of Geralt and Ciri as well. Geralt had started to stay up with him, awake every morning to make sure Jaskier had eaten before disappearing. On the rare occasion that Jaskier didn’t have to disappear in the early hours, he was there when Ciri was up for breakfast, helping the girl get ready for school as he told he stories. He’d had an early finish a couple of days after the start of his dreadful week and had returned him with a large spread of cakes and sandwiches. As promised, he had taken Ciri, Geralt in tow, down to the lake and they’d sat and had a picnic. Those little moments with his family had been the only thing keeping him sane the last 2 weeks.

He’d spent the last day putting the finishing touches of his next album together. The photo shoot, something he actually found quite enjoyable as the record label always let him choose the outfits and direction of the pictures that would go hand and hand with the album. The actual album was complete, Jaskier having decided the order just that morning, the album playing as background noise to the photoshoot so Jaskier could keep his inspiration close at hand.

It was his 4th album and Jaskier would say it was his best. He’d written it for his family. Baring his heart and soul to the world. No one would ever know who the words where written for but Jaskier would know. And that was enough.

“Jaskier?” A man a few inches taller than Jaskier walked over to him just as Jaskier was grabbing a bottle of water. The shoot was finished now and Jaskier was ready for a few days off with Geralt and Ciri. He’d been pleased to note he didn’t have any upcoming interviews or performances for the next few days and intended to make every second of that count. “Valdo Marx. You’re new manager.” The man held out a hand and Jaskier felt the relief course through him as he took the hand and shook it.

“Pleasure to meet you.” Jaskier said, smile honest and open as he looked at the man. He was in his late 30’s probably 10 years older than Jaskier’s own 28 years. He was handsome, Jaskier thought. Well built, facial hair a dark brown in colour. Eyes a deep rich brown.

“I have to say I’ve been looking forward to meet you since I got the job.” Valdo admitted, voice easy and cheerful as he leant against the table. “I’m a bit of a fan.” 

“Thank you.” Jaskier said, apprehension running through him.

“The label sent me your schedule, I’ve made a few adjustments. Just wanted to run through them with you before I changed anything.” Jaskier nodded, taking the copy from Valdo’s hands. As he read through the schedule he felt the apprehension he had felt earlier lift. Valdo had done a remarkable job of moving Jaskier’s schedule around to allow breaks and rest time.

“This looks perfect.” Jaskier said, smiling brightly at the man. Valdo grinned, brown eyes flashing as he took the schedule back from Jaskier.

“Excellent. I’ll get this to the label.” Jaskier nodded his thanks. “I take it I’ll see you in a few days time. Back at the office to see the finished product of your album.” Jaskier nodded his thanks, heart lifting at the mention of his finished record. He always felt a wave pride run through him when he finally finished an album.

“I’ll see you then.” Jaskier smiled, feeling less stressed than he had in weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter went in a completely different direction than I originally planned but I hope you enjoy :)

This was the most relaxed Jaskier had ever felt coming up to his album release date. Usually he would be worrying about the reception of the album and the upcoming schedule which always left him exhausted and apart from Geralt and Ciri for the week of the release. But this time was different. Jaskier didn’t know if it was because the album was something that was so close to Jaskier’s heart that helped or Valdo. 

Jaskier had been worried at first meeting the man. After all, it was hard to imagine anyone taking Priscilla’s place as his manager, let alone doing as good a job as she had. But Valdo was amazing. He’d managed to keep Jaskier’s schedule clear for the month leading up to the album release, knowing Jaskier needed the break before the chaos that was an album release occurred. The time away from work had been amazing for Jaskier. He’d spent more time with Geralt and Ciri than he had in months and he was sad to go back to working again. The thought had crossed his mind during the quiet time with Geralt and Ciri, that it was time to take a break. He’d been doing this for over 5 years without a single break outside of a few weeks here and there. The thought of spending every moment with his family had Jaskier earning for it. But Jaskier couldn’t just stop now, not when the album was getting released at midnight that night.

Valdo had told Jaskier that he thought this might be Jaskier’s biggest album yet and the thought had made Jaskier both nervous and excited. The prospect of his fans hearing the album Jaskier had literally poured his heart and soul into was always a heady experience, if a little nerve wracking. If they hated it, then they would by extension hate Jaskier’s heart and soul.

“You have nothing to worry about.” Valdo said over a glass of wine that night. Jaskier always liked to stay up the night of the album drop, too excited to sleep and it had become a tradition for him and Priscilla to sit in one of the labels vacant offices with a bottle of wine. “The singles been at the top of the charts since it came out and the rest of the album is just as good as that one. The fans will love it.”

When Jaskier had asked Valdo to sit with a bottle of wine that night he hadn’t expected the man to agree. But he had and Jaskier couldn’t be more grateful, not wanting to spend the night alone. Jaskier knew if he’d asked Geralt the white haired man would have stayed up with him but it wasn’t fair on him. Geralt had to get up early in the morning for Ciri and Friday’s were always busy days for Geralt as he got the White Wolf ready for the weekend opening.

“I hope so.” Jaskier said, taking a sip of the wine. 

“I know so.” Valdo assured him, easy smile on his face. Jaskier nodded, eyes turning up to the clock in the office. A few minutes and the album would drop and then all Jaskier could do was wait until the morning for the fans reactions.

As the minutes ticked closer to midnight, Jaskier grabbed the bottle of whiskey from inside his bag. Valdo lifted an eyebrow in question as Jaskier filled two thimble sized glasses and handed one to Valdo. “Priscilla and I used to take a shot when the album dropped.” Jaskier said, blushing a little at what most would consider a silly tradition. “She always said it would bring the album luck.”

“Then we had best drink up then.” Valdo grinned and Jaskier felt some of the tension dissipate. He’d heard so many horror stories about managers that he hadn’t expected to be so lucky with Valdo. The man was brilliant. A perfect replacement for Priscilla. “To your success and many successes to come.” Valdo toasted. 

Jaskier clinched Valdo’s glass and the two took the shot of whiskey, Jaskier choking as the burning taste ran down his throat. “Well, I think I better head home.” Jaskier said, glancing at the clock. Geralt respected Jaskier’s traditions but the white haired man always worried when Jaskier was home late. He always said he never slept properly until Jaskier was in the bed beside him and Jaskier felt a sudden urge to cuddle up to the man he loved.

Valdo nodded, getting to his feet and holding a steadying arm out when Jaskier stumbled a little. “You sure your alright to drive?” Valdo asked, nodding towards the now empty glass of wine. Jaskier blushed a little. Valdo had only really had a glass and the hot of whiskey, Jaskier had been the one to drink most of the wine. “I can give you a lift home.” Valdo offered.

Jaskier hesitated for a moment. It was one thing for the label to know where he lived it was a completely other thing for someone from the label to take him home. He’d worked long enough int he industry to know if the label found out about his relationship with Geralt, about Ciri, then they would want to make it public. After all, a wholesome family life was always good for publicity stunts and Jaskier didn’t want his family thrust into the limelight. And he barely knew Valdo but...the man had been nothing but kind and helpful to Jaskier in the last month. 

“Sure”. Jaskier replied before he could hesitate any longer.

“Great.” Valdo grinned, taking Jaskier’s arm and helping the drunk musician out to his car.

The ride to Jaskier’s house was silent, Jaskier starting to drift off to the steady rumbling of Valdo’s car. “I’ll have someone drop your car off in the morning.” Valdo offered, halfway into the journey.

“No it’s fine.” Jaskier assured him. “I’ll pick it up when I can.” It was one thing to let Valdo take him home in the middle of the night when Geralt and Ciri would be asleep but another thing completely to let someone come to his house in the middle of the day. Valdo shrugged in answer and the rest of the journey was spent in silence.

As Valdo pulled into the drive, he whistled low. “They weren’t kidding when they said you lived in the middle of no where.” Valdo noted and Jaskier blushed. It wasn’t his home officially, it was Geralt’s Jaskier moving in with Geralt rather than uprooting Ciri so they could move into a house they’d bought together. But Jaskier loved Geralt’s little cottage. It was quite and secluded. Peaceful. 

“Thanks for the lift.” Jaskier thanked and Valdo nodded, eyes now moving towards the motorbike on the path. Geralt’s motorbike. Now the weather was nicer, Geralt had taken to driving the bike more than his car when he didn’t have Ciri to drive around.

“I didn’t know you rode motorbikes.” Jaskier felt panic well up in his chest at that. No one knew Jaskier lived with anyone else, except Priscilla at least. Everyone just presumed Jaskier lived alone and the motorbike that was clearly not Jaskier’s was a bit of a dead giveaway that he didn’t. Which was precisely why he didn’t let people drive him home.

“Full of surprises me.” Jaskier said instead, glad he’d had years of practice at sounding convincingly unfazed by the endless media interviews and fan interactions. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Jaskier finished, grabbing his bag from the backseat and going to open the door.

“You going to ride that to the album signing because if you do the magazine will have a field day. They might just vote you sexiest man of the year 2 years in a row.” Jaskier blushed hotly at that statement, ignoring the flash of lust that appeared in Valdo’s eyes at the comment.

“No. I’ll get a taxi to the label and pick up my car.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, Jaskier was sure Geralt would drop him off at the label on the way to taking Ciri to school. He’d done it before after all.

Valdo shrugged and offered Jaskier a beaming smile as the musician climbed out of the car. “See you tomorrow then. And Jaskier,”. Valdo called before Jaskier could shut the door, “Don’t forget to wear something sexy. We want to win you that sexiest man alive title again after all.” And Jaskier blushed even hotter at that statement as he shut the door and watched Valdo drive away.

Jaskier was silent as he entered the house. Between the darkness and the fact Jaskier was still a little buzzed from all the wine, it took him a few times to get the lock in place but once he had Jaskier dropped his keys in their usual spot in the fancy bowl on the cabinet by the front door. He crept quietly up the stairs, stopping for a moment to listen to the even breathing coming from Ciri’s room. 

Entering his and Geralt’s bedroom, Jaskier wasn’t surprised to find Geralt shifting in the bed and turning on the bedside light. Jaskier offered Geralt a smile, bending down to kiss Geralt in welcome. Geralt hummed against Jaskier’s lips. “Just going to get changed.” Jaskier whispered, not wanting to wake Ciri. Geralt hummed again, amber eyes watching as Jaskier moved around the bedroom, collecting his pyjama’s before taking them into the en suite bathroom.

When he re-emerges, teeth brushed and in a pair of sleep pants and an old shirt of Geralt’s Jaskier had stolen, Geralt was sitting up in the bed. Jaskier climbed in beside him, snuggling into Geralt’s side when the other man lifted his arm to wrap around Jaskier’s shoulders. “You’ve been drinking?” Geralt noted and Jaskier nodded. 

“Tradition.” jaskier said in way of explanation and Geralt just hummed.

“How’d you get home?” Geralt asked. Jaskier paused for a moment, unsure whether to tell Geralt about Valdo. Geralt didn’t know Jaskier’s new manager, not unsurprising really as Geralt kept his distance from Jaskier’s career, so Jaskier wasn’t sure how Geralt would take him letting Valdo come to his house.

“Taxi.” Jaskier said after a moment and Geralt hummed. “I left my car at the studio, can you drop me off their in the morning?”

“I’ll drop you off on the way to taking Ciri to school.” Geralt said.

“Thanks.” Jaskier smiled, closing his eyes as Geralt reached over to turn the light off. “Love you.” Jaskier said, lifting his head to kiss Geralt softly. 

“Love you too.” Geralt grunted as they both lay into the bed to sleep. Jaskier found his head pillowed against Geralt’s chest, sighing in contentment as he let himself drift to sleep.

.....

“Your late Jaskier.” Ciri giggled as Jaskier walked down the stairs 10 minutes before they were due to leave. 

“Alas perfection takes a long time.” Jaskier grinned in answer, sending Ciri a winning smile as he took the cup of tea Geralt offered him.

Ciri giggled in answer. Jaskier had outdone himself today, Geralt thought looking at the singer’s flamboyant outfit. Jaskier was always one to wear flamboyant clothing and this was definitely up to Jaskier’s usual standards. Dark green jeans that moulder to Jaskier’s legs like a second skin, baby blue shirt which made Jaskier’s eyes stand out even more than usual, the blue sparkling in the morning light shining through the kitchen window. He’d finished the look with black boots. His brown hair had been smoothed to perfection, not a single strand out of place and Geralt could see the make-up Jaskier had put on ready for the day. It was a lot more subtle than he would wear for the interviews and shows he attended but geralt could still see the blusher Jaskier had used to make his pale skin more rosy, and the black eyeliner he had put on expertly. It always did funny things for Geralt’s heart to see Jaskier like this. He had a sudden urge to tear the clothes from Jaskier and take him back to bed and if the knowing smirk Jaskier shot him, the musician knew exactly what Geralt was thinking.

“Will you be back for Sunday dinner?” Ciri asked hopefully and Geralt felt his heated thoughts evaporate in a moment. Sunday dinners where never the same with Jaskier not there and Geralt knew Jaskier hated to miss them.

“I’ll try my best Ciri.” Jaskier said, voice solemn as he took a seat at the kitchen table. Geralt pushed a plate of toast to Jaskier who sent him a smile in thank you. “But I probably won’t be able to make it.”

“Oh.” Ciri said, a look of disappointment crossing through her face. It was always hard for her when Jaskier had to leave for extended periods of time, though it had thankfully gotten easier over the years as she started to understand why Jaskier left.

“You have to promise me something though.” Jaskier said, eyes shining with mischief as he got Ciri’s attention again. “If I’m not there then you have to promise not to let Uncle Lambert have any dessert.”

Geralt snorted back a laugh as Ciri looked at Jaskier with all the seriousness of a 10 year old. “No desert.”

“No desert.” Jaskier said, laughing as his blue eyes jumped to Geralt, the blue in them dancing with mischief. Geralt just snorted, putting the dishes into the sink to clean later. Ciri would have her work cut out for her to stop Lambert having desert, Geralt’s younger brother wouldn’t make it easy for her either. A fact Jaskier knew but that was the whole point. A way to distract Ciri from missing Jaskier during the monthly family get together. Jaskier had been making Ciri promise ridiculous things as soon as he realised Ciri hated it when Jaskier couldn’t make it t the family dinner.

“Ok, I promise.” Jaskier grinned, offering the girl a quick hug.

“We better get going then before we’re all late.” Ciri grinned, taking Jaskier’s hand as Geralt was left to collect Ciri’s bags and followed the two out to the car.

.....

Jaskier’s favourite part of being a famous singer, outside of actually getting to sing his songs to the world, where interacting with the fans. He loved his fans and always tried to give them the best experience he could. Jaskier could remember when he’d been a teenager, dragging himself out of bed to stand in lines waiting for his favourite musician’s to meet their fans and sign autographs. The heady rush and excitement had stuck with Jaskier all these years and because of it he always made a special effort to give him fans the best experiences he could.

The album signing in London was the first in a long line. Tonight he’d be on the motorway down to York, Manchester, Edinburgh and Cardiff to meet the fans there. If Jaskier had it his way he’d do the same thing in every city but he knew he couldn’t. The album release had done brilliantly, shooting up to the top 10 in the charts by the time Jaskier was finished with the album signing and on his way to a radio interview before the first leg of the week long trip.

Jaskier had dropped his car off at the White Wolf before heading to the signing, Triss having offered to take it back home for him. These trips were always exhausting so the label always put a car on for Jaskier so he wouldn’t have the added pressure of driving on top of all the travelling and promoting he would be doing.

“By next week the album should have topped the charts. It got released in America at the same time and is doing well over there.” Valdo stated from his seat next to Jaskier in the car. “We’ve got you plane tickets to LA next week to do some press there.”

“LA?” Jaskier asked. It was the first he’d heard of trip there. “They usually give me a bit more warning than a week.” Jaskier protested weekly. He hated the trips overseas. it wasn’t that he didn’t want to meet the fans from other countries, he loved that he was able to do it, but leaving Geralt and Ciri was always harder when he was leaving the country, especially when those trips nearly always lasted weeks. Weeks of being so busy Jaskier barely had time to text his family let alone phone them. With the added pressure of the time difference, Jaskier was always beyond relieved to go home afterwards. 

“Well, the fans are excited to see you and we’ve scheduled a few shows while your there.” Valdo commented in a chagrined tone. Jaskier dropped his head to look at his lap, nodding slightly.

“I just...they usually give me more time to prepare.” Jaskier tried. Priscilla had always made sure Jaskier knew about the trips overseas months in advance so he could prepare Geralt and Ciri for his extended absence. it just spring it on them that he would be gone for weeks, especially when Jaskier wouldn’t even be spending the week before with them (too busy with press in the UK to get a chance to go home), it just made it worse.

“Come on, Jaskier. It’s great opportunity. Most artists would bite your hand off for it.” Jaskier nodded, shame filling him. He knew he was lucky. Knew that most artists would never get to the level where Jaskier had gotten to. But it still hurt to know he wouldn’t see Geralt and Ciri for so long. “Now smile.” Valdo added, reaching over to brush at Jaskier’s shirt as the car pulled up outside the radio station.

Jaskier plastered on his smile, ignoring the way the guilt pulling at his heart, and knowing the smile didn’t reach his eyes as he exited the car. Valdo followed, placing a hand on the small of Jaskier’s back as he pushed Jaskier through the throng of paparazzi and fans.

....

“What?” Geralt growled over the phone.

“I’m sorry Geralt.” Jaskier sighed, voice sounding exhausted on the end of his line. usually Geralt would berate Jaskier for not getting enough rest but right now he was seething. He’d just gotten back from the bar, ringing Jaskier the minute he got in as he’d promised Jaskier he would.

“Next week. They usually give you more warning than this.” Geralt grunted over the phone. He knew it wasn’t Jaskier’s fault that his label had organised the trip to America next week but Geralt was still silently fuming at his partner. Jaskier could have at least argued.

“I know. There’s nothing I can do Geralt. I’m sorry.” Jaskier’s voice was filled with emotion over the other end of the phone and Geralt felt some of the anger flow away at Jaskier’s next words, “I don’t want to go but I don’t have a choice. They;be already booked everything.”

“Will you get a few days before you go?” Geralt asked, hoping even as he tried to squash it. When Priscilla had been Jaskier’s manager, she had made sure Jaskier got time to spend with Geralt and Ciri. It was why Geralt had liked her so much, she had made sure Jaskier didn’t miss anything. That Jaskier could still be apart of their family even if he was busy a lot of the time. But ever since Priscilla had left, Jaskier had been spending less and less time with Geralt and Ciri. And now this. Geralt couldn’t help but feel like Jaskier was moving further and further away from him. Jaskier’s being swept away by his fame while Geralt was left behind. It hurt.

“I don’t know.” Jaskier sighed and Geralt could almost imagine those blue eyes wide with emotion and pain as he spoke. “I’m sorry Geralt. I’m trying to get them to cut some of the interviews but they won’t listen.” Geralt grunted. It was at times like this that Geralt hated Jaskier’s pain. Hated it with a burning passion. “I’ve got the afternoon and night before I fly off.” Jaskier promised. “I know it’s not much but it’s better than nothing.” Jaskier was right, it wasn’t much. But it was all they had.

“Ok.” Geralt grunted.

“I really am sorry Geralt.” Jaskier’s voice was quiet over the line.

“I know.” Geralt grunted. “It’s late Jaskier. I’m going to bed.”

“Oh.” Jaskier’s breathy voice cam over the line. “Ok, goodnight. I love you.”

“Goodnight. I love you too.” Geralt answered before hanging up. He didn’t want to say those words over the phone. He wanted to say them to Jaskier in person.

......

Sunday dinner’s without Jaskier were always strange. He’d only been a part of their family for 5 years but ever since that first dinner, Jaskier had engrained himself as an integral part of their family. Ever since Vesemir’s heart attack, Triss and Jaskier had taken over making dinner. Their talk and laughter could usually be heard from the living room. With Jaskier missing, Eskel has stepped up to help Triss but Eskel’s quiet nature made the usual talk filtering from the kitchen a lot quieter. Geralt had to strain to hear their voices above the clash of dishes, while Jaskier’s voice always carried out to the living room clearly.

Dinner itself was also a lot quieter than usual. Geralt found himself missing Jaskier’s melodic voice as it clambered in with the usual noise of Sunday dinners. There was none of Jaskier trading insults with Yennefer back and forth, none of Jaskier’s quiet talks with Eskel or Jaskier laughing at one of Lambert’s jokes. None of Jaskier by his side, their hands entwined under the table. It felt wrong. And with the added fact that Jaskier would be missing from theirs lives for weeks yet, Geralt couldn’t bring himself to join in with the usual clatter of Sunday dinner.

Ciri took her promise to Jaskier to heart, going with Triss to help dish out desert. When Lambert’s plate was left empty, he had jumped t his feet to grab some of the cake Yennefer had made only to have Ciri bat it away lightning fast. This had dissolved into a game, where every time Lambert tried to take a piece of desert Ciri would bat it away. It had the whole table in giggles and even Geralt found himself laughing at Lambert’s angry frown at no desert. At one point Lambert had met Geralt’s eye gaze over the table, offering a wink to say he knew exactly what Jaskier had done. Geralt snorted at this, knowing Lambert’s revenge would come swift and unexpected at the next Sunday dinner. If Jaskier made it back in time.

“You ok son?” Vesemir asked, taking a seat next to where Geralt had been brooding ever since dinner had finished. Ciri was in the kitchen, guarding the left overs from Lambert as Eskel, Triss and Yennefer cleaned up. Geralt grunted in answer. “You miss Jaskier.” Vesemir had always had the ability to understand what Geralt’s universal responses where. The only other person who could interpreted Geralt’s various grunts was Jaskier.

“He’s going to America.” Geralt grunted, keeping his voice flat and all of the emotions he was feeling away. “Next week.” Geralt didn’t need to look at Vesemir to see the surprise on the greying man’s face. 

“That’s unexpected.” Vesemir said and geralt just grunted. “Works himself to hard that boy does.” Vesemir noted when the silence dragged for a little longer. “Have you told him how your feeling?”

“Wouldn’t make a difference.” Geralt replied because it wouldn’t. If he told Jaskier he didn’t want him to go Jaskier would still go. Because he didn’t have a choice so why should Geralt tell Jaskier his thoughts on the matter when Jaskier couldn’t do anything about it anyway.

“I think your the only person he would listen to.” Vesemir offered and Geralt just grunted again. He couldn’t ask Jaskier to stay. It wasn’t fair on either of them.

“Get off!” Ciri’s screech of laughter broke through the silence between Geralt and Vesemir. Vesemir laughed loudly as Lambert walked through to the living room with a kicking 10 year old thrown across his shoulder. Geralt felt the corners of his mouth twitch up at the sight as Ciri was deposited onto the floor, giggling madly. But even as Geralt watched his family interact, he couldn’t help but feel the pit in his stomach grow wider at the missing member of that family.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be warned their are mentions of violence and body shaming towards the end of this chapter.

“I’ll be back before you know it.” Jaskier promised as he hugged Ciri tightly. His suitcase was already in his car, Geralt standing ready to drive him to the airport.

“You promise?” Ciri asked and jaskier felt the guilt in his heart tighten as he offered the girl a smile.

“Promise.” Ciri nodded, squeezing Jaskier tightly once more before stepping back so she was standing next to Yennefer. Yennefer offered Jaskier a brief nod which Jaskier returned before getting into the car next to Geralt.

The trip to the airport was quiet as it always was but their was a tinge in the air that had Jaskier on edge. This wasn’t like every other trip Jaskier had taken. usually they had weeks to prepare for Jaskier to leave. Usually Jaskier would spend the week leading up to the trip with Geralt and Ciri. Instead Jaskier had gotten back yesterday afternoon from promoting his new album, exhausted and tired. Ciri had come back from school that evening subdued, barely saying a word as they watched a film with takeout as they always did the night before Jaskier left. Jaskier had been so exhausted from the previous week, that he’d ended up falling asleep on Geralt’s shoulder halfway through the movie. 

He’d woken up long enough to put Ciri to bed before Geralt had insisted they go to bed early. jaskier had wanted to protest, wanting to spend as much time with Geralt as possible before leaving but he had been so tired he hadn’t had the energy to refuse. Within minutes he’d been flat out in the bed.

“You ok?” Geralt grunted as he pulled into the lane leading to the airport.

Jaskier hummed, eyes drifting to watch the traffic. “I’m just going to miss you.” Jaskier said, smiling softly at Geralt’s bemused expression. Geralt always wore that same expression when Jaskier said he would miss him, as if Geralt didn’t believe Jaskier.

“Me too.” Geralt grunted and Jaskier felt warmth fill his heart.

They remained in silence until Geralt pulled into the airport drop off point. jaskier had dark sunglasses on and knew that coupled with the windows obscuring passerby’s view into Geralt’s car, that he wouldn’t be recognised so he leant forwards to press a soft kiss to Geralt’s lips. He didn’t want to go. Not really. He wanted Geralt to turn the car around and take him home but Geralt was breaking away from the kiss now and Jaskier had to suppress the sigh building up in him. He knew if Geralt asked him to stay he would. But instead Geralt kissed Jaskier one more time before getting out of the car to get Jaskier’s suitcase.

“I’ll call.” Jaskier promised, taking the case from Geralt’s hand. “Every night.” Geralt just grunted, hand lingering on Jaskier’s for a moment before he walked back to his car. Jaskier stood at the side, watching as Geralt drove away, guilt wearing heavily on his heart.

.....

Geralt knew he should have said something. He’d wanted to say something. Anything to stop Jaskier from leaving. Geralt had seen the hesitance in Jaskier’s posture, the way Jaskier had paused in his goodbye as if he didn’t want to leave and Geralt had been so close to telling Jaskier to stay. But he hadn’t. Jaskier couldn’t stay. As much as Geralt wanted him to. As much as this time Jaskier’s leaving hurt more than usual, Geralt hadn’t said anything.

It wasn’t like this time was any different, Geralt kept telling himself as he drove home. Jaskier left all the time. It didn’t matter that this time had been more of a surprise than usual. it didn’t matter that they hadn’t really had a chance to say a proper goodbye, Jaskier too tired the night before and Geralt too nervous to say anything on the drive to the airport. None of that mattered because Jaskier would come home. He’d be back in Geralt’s arms in 2 weeks.

So why was he so worried.

.....

‘Damn it.” Jaskier cursed under his breath as he walked towards airport security. There was a large group of people waiting for him there, mostly teenage girls, screaming his name with phones out for pictures. Jaskier plastered on his smile as he waved at them, pushing past the throng of people as he walked towards airport security.

He’d been convinced he would be fine to get checked in without his security team there to push away fans. It wasn’t like they should even know that Jaskier was at this specific airport. But all it had taken was a delay in check in, leaving Jaskier waiting for nearly an hour. Someone had recognised him in the queue for check in and by the time Jaskier had handed over his suitcase, word had gotten out and fans were now crawling the airport grounds shouting for Jaskier’s attention. Airport security were glaring at Jaskier, obviously not pleased at the chaos his presence was creating and he offered a sheepish smile as he pulled his passport out of his jacket pocket.

Jaskier felt guilty as he pushed past the waiting fans, knowing they wanted pictures but knowing doing that in the middle of an airport was probably not the best idea. He could see the disappointed looks the fans sent him and a few of the more hands ones grabbed at his jacket as Jaskier pushed through the throng. Jaskier turned around with a dazzling smile, apologising and saying he was running late, as he pulled his jacket out of the grabbing hands.

By the time he pushed his way through and into the line for airport security, where thankfully the fans couldn’t follow, Jaskier was frazzled. He barely registered getting through security as he pulled his satchel over his shoulder and headed in the direction of the first class lounge. Valdo had texted him to say he would be waiting their for Jaskier to go through the schedule before they got onto the plane. 

As Jaskier walked through the terminal, the heaviness in his heart never dissipated one inch. He just wanted to go home. Wanted to be meeting Geralt, not Valdo. The interaction with the fans outside of the airport had enlightened a spark of doubt in Jaskier’s mind. He didn’t know if he wanted to do this anymore.

......

“Remember, there’ll be plenty of paparazzi so remember to smile.” Valdo stated as he brushed a stray piece of Jaskier’s air out of his face. “We can stop in the bathroom, put some make-up on. I know it was a long flight but you need to look good for the pictures.” Jaskier sighed, adjusting his grip on his suitcase as he followed Valdo past the baggage reclaim area.

“Valdo, honestly it’s fine. We were just on a plane for 11 hours. All I need right now is a hot shower and bed.” Jaskier always hated flying, the rumble of the engines keeping him awake for most of the journey and leaving him exhausted when he finally got to the other side.

“You’ll have an hour for a shower and outfit change and then we’ve got an interview with a magazine organised.” That was news to Jaskier. Valdo just shrugged when Jaskier sent him a confused look. “It’s all on the schedule.”

“The schedule you won’t let me see.” Jaskier noted, letting the annoyance fill his tone.

Valdo just rolled his eyes, placing a hand on Jaskier’s shoulder before Jaskier shrugged it off in anger. “And I’ve told you. Trust me. I’ve got it all in hand.”

“It’s my schedule Valdo.” They’d been having this argument for the whole journey and Jaskier was finally starting to lose his patience. “I have a right to know what you’ve signed me up to do.”

Valdo sighed in exasperation as if Jaskier was being ridiculous. “I’ll print you a copy when we get to the hotel. Just don’t worry your pretty little head about a thing. I’ve got it all sorted.”

And Jaskier stopped dead in his tracks, anger bubbling up at Valdo’s words. But before he could say anything there was the familiar flash of a camera and Jaskier had to reign his anger in and plaster on a fake smile.

....

The hotel was nice but Jaskier didn’t even notice as he dumped his suitcase onto the double bed. The sheets looked soft and warm but Valdo’s warning that he only had an hour kept ringing around Jaskier’s head as he stripped out of his clothes, intent on a shower. The bathroom was large, stainless steel appliances which gleamed from being freshly cleaned but Jaskier didn’t notice them as he stepped into the shower.

Hot water pelted Jaskier as the musician stood with his face lifted, running fingers through his hair to get the grime of the travelling off his hair and skin. He just wanted to stand there all day but he knew he couldn’t. So instead Jaskier quickly used the hotel supplied shower gel to wash himself down before stepping out of the shower and towel drying himself down.

Stepping out of the bathroom, Jaskier yelped in shock to find Valdo sitting on his bed. His manager’s lips were upturned in a smirk as his eyes drifted down Jaskier’s chest. Jaskier was just thankful he’d wrapped the towel around his lower body, done more out of habit than anything else.

“What are you doing here?” Jaskier said, trying to calm his racing heart. “How did you even get in here?” Jaskier added because Jaskier was pretty sure he was the only one with a key.

Valdo lifted a key which he waved at Jaskier with a smile fixed to his face. “Just dropping off the schedule.” Valdo noted, nodding towards a piece of paper on the table.

“You could have given it to me later.” Jaskier tried, self consciously grabbing his suitcase and rummaging in it for clothes. Valdo’s eyes hadn’t left Jaskier’s bared upper body for a second.

“But you were so insistent that I give it to you before.” And Jaskier couldn’t argue with that because he had been. He pulled out his black skinny jeans and a red shirt before turning to Valdo. “Hair and make-up will be in in 5 minutes.” And why would Jaskier need them here. It was only a magazine interview. As if Valdo could hear Jaskier’s thoughts, he rolled his eyes and continued, “You’re in LA now Jaskier. You need to make more of an effort than usual.” And Jaskier always made an effort. Or at least, he thought he did. “And don’t wear that. I had the stylists pack you clothes for the next 2 weeks. Today’s outfit it laid out over there. I’ll bring the tomorrow’s in in the morning.” And before Jaskier could argue that he didn’t need someone to dress him, Valdo was exiting the room.

Jaskier walked over to the clothes and grimaced at the bright yellow jeans and light green shirt. He’d wanted the comfort of his own clothes, not whatever the label deemed appropriate for him to wear. But he’d already kicked up a fuss today about seeing the schedule and he didn’t want to be seen as a diva so he swallowed past the anger that was bubbling in him and got into the clothes.

There was a knock on the door not a moment later and Jaskier was whisked into a seating position as make-up was being plastered onto him and his hair dried and straightened into place. The minute they were done Valdo was back, “We’re running late songbird. Time to go.” And Valdo was gone again, leaving Jaskier running to catch up to him. Schedule left forgotten on his bed. He hadn’t even had chance to text Geralt to say he had arrived, phone left as forgotten as the schedule on the bed.

......

Geralt was pacing. Again. Jaskier should have texted hours ago and the fact he hadn’t had Geralt’s mind running over every horror if I’d detail that might have happened. He was just glad it was a weekend and Yennefer had Ciri so his daughter wasn’t there to see Geralt venting his worry. He’d been at the bar for opening but Triss had kicked him out when his brooding glare started scaring customers away from the bar.

“For a person who owns a bar, Geralt, you are appalling with people. She had stated as she pushed Geralt out of the back exit. Geralt had said nothing, hand drifting to his pocket, expecting to see a text from Jaskier. There was none.

It was now nearly 3 in the morning and still no word from Jaskier. He should have arrived by 11 that night, London time anyway. Geralt sat on the sofa, head in his hands and tried to convince himself that Jaskier was fine. He was probably exhausted from the flight and had fallen asleep at the hotel. It had happened before and Priscilla had texted to say jaskier was fine and would text when was next awake. Except Priscilla wasn’t there now so Geralt didn’t know. No one would even to think to call Geralt if something happened to Jaskier because no one even knew Geralt existed.

.....

Geralt finally heard from Jaskier at 4pm the next night (11pm LA time), exactly 12 hours since he should have heard from Jaskier.

/Can I call you?/. Jaskier’s text pinged through and Geralt felt all the worry and fear he had been carrying around all day elevate with those simple words. He didn’t bother texting back, instead ringing Jaskier from his own phone.

“Hi.” Jaskier’s soft voice answered, exhaustion clear in his tone. Geralt felt worry spike through him but ignored it in favour of answering.

“Hi. You ok? I was worried.” Geralt answered.

“I’m sorry.” Jaskier’s voice was quiet, pain-filled. “I was going to text back at the hotel but they dragged me off before I even had a chance to. And I forgot to bring my phone with me.” Geralt wanted to be angry that Jaskier had forgotten to text but the defeated tone in Jaskier’s voice stopped Geralt’s anger in it’s tracks.

“It’s ok Jask. You sound tired.” Jaskier let out a tired wet laugh on the other end of the line and Geralt felt his heart ache. Jaskier was crying. He was crying and Geralt couldn’t comfort him.

“A little.” Jaskier answered and Geralt could imagine Jaskier curled on his side in the bed, covers covering him as he talked to Geralt.

“You should get some sleep.’ Geralt immediately said.

“Don’t go.” Jaskier’s voice was so small that Geralt couldn’t have gone even if he’d wanted to. “Talk to me. Please. tell me about your day.”

So Geralt did. The tedium of cleaning the bar ready for tonight. Going through the books at the bar. As Geralt talked, he heard Jaskier’s breathing even into the familiar pattern of sleep. “Goodnight Jask. I love you.” Geralt whispered into he phone before hanging up, worry edging through him. Something was wrong with Jaskier and there was nothing Geralt could do. not when there was a literal ocean separating them.

......

“Up you get.” Valdo’s cheery voice broke Jaskier from his peaceful sleep. He was still in the same position as he had been on the phone with Geralt last night. Curled tightly into the blankets, phone resting in his ear as fell asleep listening to Geralt’s deep voice. “Come on songbird. We’ll be late if you don’t get up now.” Valdo walked over to the window, pulling the curtains open. Jaskier winced as the bright light streamed through the curtains. Glancing at the time on his phone he noticed it wasn’t even 7am. 

“Late for what?’ Jaskier tried, pushing the covers off of him as Valdo dumped todays it fit (red pants and dark blue shirt) on the bed. 

“You didn’t read the schedule. honestly Jaskier this is why I didn’t want to go to the effort of printing one for you.” Jaskier had meant to read the schedule but he hadn’t had chance. The day before had been a whirlwind of interviews and fan meets and one live TV interview that Jaskier had been too exhausted to even think about it. 

“20 minutes and hair and make-up will be in. Busy day again today. I’ll see you down at breakfast.” jaskier just groaned, collapsing back on the bed as the door slammed shut behind Valdo. He had to force himself out of the bed and into the shower.

When he was finally dressed and hair and make-up were done, it was nearly an hour later and he was was exhausted and hungry. He walked down to where breakfast was served, taking a seat next to Valdo with an unamused look on his face. He’d had a chance to review the schedule for the day and was less than pleased.

“What wrong, songbird?” Valdo asked, pushing a cup of tea towards Jaskier. 

“The schedule.” Jaskier stated, glaring at Valdo. “What the hell Valdo? There isn’t even enough time between them.” Valdo shrugged.

“We’re in LA Jaskier. It’s an amazing opportunity and I think you should take every advantage you can.” Jaskier just glowered at Valdo in return. Valdo sighed, a serious expression coming over his face. “Look, Jaskier, I didn’t want to have to tell you this but the labels not pleased.” Jaskier felt his heart stammer in his chest. It was the first time he was hearing this. “They think your losing your touch and to be honest I agree. You’re not as interactive with your fans. The interviews are getting boring. You keep going this way and this time next year you’ll have lost half your fan base.”

“I thought everything was fine.” Jaskier replied, disbelief colouring his tone.

Valdo just gave Jaskier a pitying look. “Priscilla, your last manager. She let a lot of things slide. Too many breaks. Not enough promotion. Your record sales have gone down from what they were at the beginning of your career. You’re fans are getting more and more disappointed. You’ve lost your spark.” Jaskier could feel the horror running through him at Valdo’s words. He never looked at the record sales. Didn’t want to know how well or not well he was doing. He just wanted to concentrate on his singing, Priscilla had always taken care of everything else. “To put it bluntly Jaskier, you need a boost. LA is the perfect place for that. Get back in the public eye. The schedule is as loaded as it needs to be. If I could I’d put more in their but hell, you’ve still got to sleep right.” Valdo joked but Jaskier wasn’t listening, mind still sitting on the fact he wasn’t doing as well as he thought. That he was failing his fans.

“Trust me, yeah songbird?” Valdo asked. Jaskier turned wide blue eyes to Valdo’s sincere brown ones and tried to nod. “Good. 10 minutes and we’ll be ready to go.” Jaskier just blinked. Valdo placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing tightly before disappearing.

Jaskier looked at the breakfast spread and felt physically sick. He couldn’t face the food. Not now. Not when he realised he was failing the fans that had given him everything he had ever wanted since he was a child.

......

The next 2 weeks passed in a blur as Jaskier was dragged from one interview, to another performance, to another interview after another. He was bone tired.. Exhausted to the point of collapse. But he kept the smile fixed on his face. Kept his performances as active and full of heart as he always had. Valdo’s words running through his head. He didn’t want to disappoint his fans. Couldn’t do that. Not when his music meant the world to Jaskier. So Jaskier pushed himself past his limits. 

He barely talked to Geralt in those 2 weeks. Every phone call nearly always leaving Geralt’s voice drifting Jaskier to sleep. And Jaskier could hear the worry growing in Geralt’s voice daily so he stuck to texting as much as possible. He couldn’t disappoint Geralt as well. Not when he was already failing everyone else. He couldn’t fail Geralt as well.

They were 2 days off returning home and Jaskier finally had a small break. Valdo had insisted on taking Jaskier out for dinner, saying the exposure was good for Jaskier, to be seen out in public when Jaskier was very rarely seen away from public engagements. 

Jaskier hasn’t wanted to go, wanted to spend the evening in bed, watching movies and maybe talking to Geralt. Because he missed Geralt. More than anything. When the waiter cam over, Jaskier opened his mouth to speak but Valdo was too quick. “Lobster and just a salad for my friend.” The waiter nodded, leaving before Jaskier could protest.

“I can order for myself.” Jaskier growled, low in his throat. Valdo sighed, rolling his eyes as he so often had the last 2 weeks.

“I know, songbird. But you have to trust me.”

“You kept saying that.” Jaskier said, trying to keep his voice low even as the anger built. The anger had been building steadily all week towards Valdo. The snide comments. The not letting Jaskier take breaks. The controlling of his wardrobe. The making Jaskier in himself ragged, following a schedule not even Superman could have managed.

“Because it’s true. I know what’s best.” Valdo smiled and Jaskier seethed silently.

“How the fuck do you know what’s best. You barely know me.”

“You’re right I don’t know you.” Valdo conceded, in a tone that sounded as if he was talking to a small child rather than an adult. “But I know your career and I know what the public perception is of you.”

“What does that have to do with ordering my food.” Valdo sighed at this.

“Jaskier you’ve been letting yourself go. The fans don’t want to see that. They don’t want to see you prancing around stage with clothes that are getting too small. You need to look after yourself more so salad. And I’m putting you a diet plan together when we get back to London. There’s an excellent nutritionist that I’ve already spoken to.” And Jaskier couldn’t take it anymore. He jumped to his feet, angry tears in his eyes as he glared at Valdo. A few people around their table looked up at Jaskier in surprise.

“Jaskier, sit down. You don’t want to cause a scene.” Valdo smirked and Jaskier didn’t. He didn’t want to cause a scene. And a scene was exactly what was going to happen if he sat opposite this man a moment longer. So instead of sitting, he grabbed his jacket and stormed out of the restaurant back to the hotel.

The walk back to the hotel did nothing to calm Jaskier’s growing anger. He was furious. It was one thing for Valdo fucking Marx to control Jaskier’s career but to try and control Jaskier’s life. That was too far. Jaskier wanted to talk to Geralt. Wanted to hear the deep timber of Geralt’s voice, to calm him down but he couldn’t ring him. Not tonight. It was Ciri’s school holidays and Geralt had mentioned last night that he had a full day planned with Ciri and Yennefer. Jaskier had felt a tinge of disappointment at those words, wanting nothing more than to fly back so he could spend Ciri’s holiday with her as well. But he couldn’t. He was stuck here with Valdo fucking Marx. And he couldn’t even talk to Geralt without spoiling Ciri’s day out and Jaskier would never ever do that to that little girl who deserved the world, in Jaskier’s opinion.

So instead Jaskier walked the long way back to his hotel, letting the anger slowly dissipate as the warm LA air ran through him. By the time he was back in his room, the anger he had been feeling had faded and all Jaskier felt was empty. He just wanted to go home.

....

3 hours later, Jaskier was woken from sleep to the sound of his door opening. He groaned, blinking through the sleep in his eyes as he tried to work out what time it was. 10pm. There was no reason for anyone to come into his room at 9pm. He had nothing planned until the next day.

Jaskier pushed himself into a seated position, the anger from that evening filling him again as he saw Valdo shut the door behind him. Valdo’s face was red, clothes dishellved and an angry hateful look across his face. Jaskier opened his mouth to tell Valdo to get the fuck out but Valdo was already speaking, pacing the room in anger.

“You ungrateful bastard.” Valdo growled. “I’m doing everything for you. Fucking everything and how do you repay me. By storming out like a child. If it wasn’t for me your permutation would be in pieces.”

Jaskier stared at Valdo in anger, swinging his legs off the bed so he was now standing. “Excuse me.” Jaskier seethed. “What exactly have you done for me, except insult me. Work me to the point of exhaustion. Yeah a great fucking help that’s been.” Valdo growled, crowding towards Jaskier. Jaskier didn’t move even when Valdo’s face was mere inches from his own.

“You don’t know how good you’ve got it. The whole fucking world loves you. And all you do is complain.”

“Because the whole world knowing my face, the paparazzi following my every minute of every fucking day is a great thing.”

“I would give anything for what you have.” Valdo growled and Jaskier could smell the sour scent of wine on the man’s breath as Valdo inched closer. Jaskier felt himself take a step back at the anger and hate in Valdo’s eyes.

“So your jealous then. Is that what this is about. Your jealous that you couldn’t make it so instead you’re hear to try and make my life a living hell. Well, you can fucking stop now because your fired. The minute we get back I’m asking the label for a new manager and you can...”. Jaskier’s rant was cut short as Valdo swung a fist.

Valdo’s fist connected with Jaskier’s jaw, sending the musician sprawling onto the floor, clutching at his throbbing cheek, blood blossoming from his mouth as he bit his tongue on the unexpected swing.

“What the fuck!” Jaskier yelled, staggering to his feet but before he could even stand, Valdo grabbed Jaskier’s arms, pushing Jaskier backwards so the singer’s head banged loudly on the wall. Jaskier couldn’t surpass the groan of pain at that. Anger was soon being replaced by fear as Valdo’s grip on Jaskier’s arms tightened, hate shining fiercely in his eyes. Jaskier’s went to open his mouth and scream but Valdo clamped a hand over Jaskier’s mouth before he could. Jaskier bit at Valdo’s finger, causing the other man to momentarily release mouth to slap him on the same side he’d just inched him. Jaskier’s head was ringing from the repeated hits, tears burning his eyes as he tried to struggle out of Valdo’s grip. But Valdo’s grip was firm and Jaskier couldn’t move.

“You will not scream.” Valdo hissed, fisting Jaskier’s hair in his hand and pulling it backwards. “You will not tell anyone about what just happened. You will be fucking grateful for me being here, saving your career.” Valdo spit in Jaskier’s face, Jaskier whimpering away from the pain in his hair and the anger running from Valdo. “If you even hint at this. If you even consider firing me then I will tell the whole world your little secret.”

“What secret?” Jaskier stammered, heart racing as Valdo’s face contorted into a smile.

“Geralt Rivia and his little daughter Cirilla.” Valdo snarled and Jaskier felt worry flash through him.

“I don’t know them.” Jaskier tried but even to him the words didn’t sound convincing. Valdo snorted in disbelief, hand fisted in Jaskier’s hair tightening causing Jaskier to whimper.

“The house you live in. It belongs to Geralt Rivia. He lives there with his daughter, 10 year old Cirilla. My guess is your in a relationship with him but it doesn’t really matter. You say one fucking word about this then I will tell anyone who will listen about him. And about the abuse.”

“Geralt would never hurt me.” Jaskier stammered, anger running through him as he struggled angrily in Valdo’s grip.

“Maybe not but when the media hear about those bruises.” Valdo chuckled, nodding to where he had punched Jaskier, “What do you think they’ll think. And it doesn’t matter what you say because no one will believe you. They’ll just think your trying to protect your abuser. They’ll think you’re pathetic.” Valdo snarled, pushing Jaskier away from him. Jaskier staggered at the push, legs giving out so he was sitting on the floor, tears streaming down his face.

“I’ll see you bright and early. Don’t forget to cover the bruises.” Valdo smiled darkly. “We wouldn’t want anyone thinking your beloved Geralt did them.” As Valdo closed the door behind him, Jaskier felt himself descend into all powering sobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed and please review :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mentions of past violent behaviour.

Jaskier woke to the sound of his alarm blaring in the silent room. Groaning, Jaskier peeled his tear stained eyes open, cringing as he stretched out his limbs. He had fallen asleep on the floor, where Valdo had left him the night before. His eyes still stinging from the tears shed into the early hours of this morning.

He had thought it was a dream. Hoped it was a dream. But the fact he was still on the floor, where he had spent hours into the night sobbing tears as his mind raced over what had happened proved it wasn’t. Stiffly, Jaskier got to his feet, moving into the bathroom. The bright light of the bathroom highlighted the ugly truth of what had happened. A dark ugly purple bruise was plastered on the left side of Jaskier’s cheek. Jaskier felt tears burn at the corner of his eyes as he looked at the slight swelling on his face. His brown hair was tousled, from Jaskier running his hands through it or Valdo’s harsh grip he honestly didn’t know. Didn’t care. He just wanted to go home. Wanted Geralt. Wanted to be wrapped in Geralt’s strong arms as he told Jaskier everything would be ok. Except it wouldn’t be. Nothing would be ok again because if Jaskier even hinted of what happened last night then Valdo would destroy Geralt. Destroy the man he loved. 

A tear drop fell onto Jaskier’s shaking hands where he was bent over the bathroom sink and Jaskier rubbed his eyes angrily. He wouldn’t cry because of that man. He wouldn’t let himself be destroyed by that man. Even if he had to suffer Valdo Marx until he got bored of threatening the people Jaskier loved more than anything in the world, Jaskier would not cry because of him. He wouldn’t let him have that control over him. Never.

Resolved, Jaskier stripped from his pyjama’s and climbed into the shower. The hot water did wonders to revive Jaskier’s spirit from the night before and he found his mind running through his options. Valdo had threatened to tell the media this bruise had come from Geralt, but Geralt wasn’t even here. There was a whole fucking ocean separating him so Valdo couldn’t blame Geralt for this bruise, it wasn’t possible. But, the unhelpful part of Jaskier’s brain added, it didn’t mean Valdo couldn’t still say Geralt was abusive. There may not be any bruises and Jaskier would deny the claims viciously but even suggesting such a thing would destroy Geralt. Not to mention Jaskier had promised him. Promised Geralt that Jaskier’s career would never force Geralt or Ciri or his family into the spotlight like it had Jaskier. So no, Jaskier couldn’t tell the truth about the bruise. Even if the truth got out that it Valdo had done it, Marx would still have the opportunity to thrust Geralt and his family into the media and Jaskier would not allow that.

Which didn’t leave him with many options. Jaskier felt the tears burning at his eyes again as he stood under the hot spray of the water. He should call Geralt. He should tell Geralt what had happened and between the two of them they could sort this. Jaskier wanted to tell Geralt. Wanted to let Geralt comfort him. But as much as Jaskier wanted those things, he couldn’t. Telling Geralt, Jaskier knew what the other man would do. He would be furious. He would probably try and murder Marx, a thought that had Jaskier grinning at. But if he did that then Valdo would have a much easier time at painting Geralt as the villain. Jaskier wasn’t a fool. He knew Geralt looked terrifying to most people. The burly muscles, the fact he towered over nearly everyone he met, the glower that was permanently fixed to his face. Jaskier might think these things made Geralt the sexiest man alive but that was because Jaskier knew Geralt. He had seen Geralt playing with his daughter, the kindest sweetest smile on his face. He had seen Geralt laughing and joking with his brothers. Had seen the soft expression and gentle way Geralt had cleaned up Ciri’s injuries when his daughter had fallen over and scratched up her whole leg. Jaskier had seen Geralt comfort Ciri after a nightmare. So to Jaskier Geralt wasn’t scary. He could never be scary. But for people who didn’t know Geralt, they would have no issue believing whatever lie Marx said.

And with that sobering thought, Jaskier made himself get out of the shower, towelling himself dry before picking up the set of clothes that had been specifically picked today. Jaskier didn’t pay attention to what he was wearing as he pulled on the too tight jeans and towel dried his hair. Looking at himself in the mirror, Jaskier’s eyes were drawn to the ugly purple bruise. 

He was on his own. And that fact hurt more than anything else.

The make-up artists where in his room minutes after Jaskier had gotten out of the bathroom. “What the hell happened Jaskier?” Susan asked, from dissolving into one of shock as she looked at the bruise on Jaskier’s face.

Jaskier felt himself flush, panic building in him. Marx had told him o cover the bruises. “I…I tripped. Hit my face.” Jaskier stuttered, cringing at the pathetic lie he had told. 

But Susan just sighed, rolling her eyes as she directed Jaskier to sit in the chair as she and the other lade (Mary) pulled out their make-up boxes. “You need to be more careful. That things going to bloody hard to cover. But luckily for you we are the best in the game.” Susan flashed Jaskier, getting to work in plastering the thick make-up onto Jaskier’s face.

As the familiar routine played out, Jaskier felt the tension leave him slightly. She had bought the lie. She didn’t suspect the truth. That was good, wasn’t it? Jaskier knew it was good for Geralt and Ciri. It meant Marx wouldn’t go through with his threat to tell the media about Jaskier’s family. But if the bruise was this easily hidden, what was there to stop Marx doing it again. As simply as that the tension returned.

….

“We’ll skip breakfast.” Marx stated, motioning for Jaskier to follow him through the main entrance rather than heading to the hotel restaurant for breakfast. Jaskier felt his stomach growl and he almost said something. Almost. Until he remembered the bruise on his cheek and the threat against Geralt. “I’ve got you an interview with one of the smaller LA magazines. It’s not exactly brilliant press but it’s always good to show support for the smaller magazines.” Marx was saying as if yesterday hadn’t even happened.

Jaskier didn’t say a word, following Marx into the car with anger bubbling further into him. How dare this man pretend nothing had happened. Pretend he hadn’t hit Jaskier, pretend that he hadn’t threatened the most important people in Jaskier’s life not even 12 hours ago. 

As they climbed into the back of the car, Marx placed a gentle hand onto Jaskier’s arm and Jaskier felt himself flinch away from the touch as if he’d been burnt. “Don’t touch me.” Jaskier hissed, keeping his voice low so only Marx could hear it.

Marx just tutted, rolling his eyes and moving his hand again onto Jaskier’s arm. Jaskier tried to shake it off but Marx’s grip tightened where it held him. “Now songbird, let’s not have a tantrum.” Jaskier spluttered at this, face flushing in embarrassment at the look the driver was sending him in the rear-view mirror.

“I’m not having a fucking tantrum.” Jaskier retorted and Marx sighed, this time removing his arm but still keeping his eyes fixed on Jaskier.

“Then a diva fit. You’ve been doing this since we got here. Honestly it’s beginning to get a tad annoying.” Jaskier just stared at Marx in disbelief. At no point in his entire fucking career had Jaskier ever acted like a diva. Sure he was flamboyant and a little eccentric when it came to his clothing and personality but Jaskier had never been a diva. “But please hold it together for a few more days.” Marx leant closer now, voice dropping low enough so the driver couldn’t hear anything. “Otherwise there may be a slight slip and the press will get wind that you have a boyfriend.” 

And that was probably the only thing that Marx could have said to squash the growing anger in Jaskier. Those words were like dowsing cold water on a blazing fire and Jaskier felt himself meekly lean back in the chair. “Better.” Marx crooned, finger gently tapping Jaskier’s bruised cheek before he turned to look out of the window as if nothing had happened.

As the car drove further along the LA streets, Jaskier felt his heart plummet further and further down.

…..

Jaskier was so glad to be home. The last 2 days had been the longest 2 days in his entire life. He had been constantly on guard, Marx rarely leaving his side and even when he wasn’t there the threats against Jaskier’s family still hung clearly in the air. Jaskier knew his last 2 days of interviews and performances had been terrible. Jaskier just hadn’t had the headspace to even plaster on the fake smile half the time and it had shown.

News had gotten into the American press of Jaskier’s rumoured diva tantrum. Jaskier had cringed at that, face turning bright red as the red the article. Apparently, an undisclosed source had mentioned Jaskier had been complaining about doing the small-time article Marx had dragged him to the morning after the incident (which was what Jaskier was now referring that horrible night as). Jaskier had no doubt that the undisclosed source had been the driver listening in on Marx’s comments in the back seat of the car. And while it had never been explicitly said why Jaskier was acting like a diva, well Jaskier was all to well aware how the press made more money with fake stories than the actual truth. That and Jaskier didn’t entirely put it past Marx to have said something to the media to think that was why he had called Jaskier a diva.

The article had come out the morning of the trip home and Marx had taken great satisfaction of barging into Jaskier’s room that morning, waving the offending magazine in his face. Jaskier had wanted to say something. Wanted to wipe that smug smile from Marx’s face but he couldn’t. He couldn’t do a fucking thing because anything he did would cause harm to Geralt. And Jaskier wouldn’t allow that.

So Jaskier had just sat there as Marx spoke: “This is why we need to re-design your image songbird. Why the label brought me in. You got so used to having your way with Priscilla that the minute you can’t have it your way you throw these ridiculous diva tantrums. We need to clean your image back up, make you more appealing to the masses. You’ll get a few days off when we get back and then we’re straight back to business.” Marx had given Jaskier a sickening smile then. “And you should be grateful I’m giving you that time off. If I had it my way, we’d be back to it the second we touched ground but alas even spoilt diva’s have to have a break.” And it didn’t matter that everything Marx said about Jaskier throwing diva tantrums or disgraced Priscilla’s previous excellent management of Jaskier’s career. Or the fact Jaskier would barely call arriving home at 5 pm on Saturday and going straight back to work at 8am on Monday morning a long break. None of that mattered because Jaskier couldn’t say a fucking thing against Marx. 

The crowds at the airport were bad. They were always bad. Jaskier didn’t know how the fans always knew when he was arriving at an airport or how they even knew which airport he was flying into, but they always knew and were always there in their masses to grab a sight of the famous musician. Secretly, Jaskier thought Marx might have leaked Jaskier’s flight information to the masses this time.

Usually Jaskier would take the opportunity to give a few autographs and take pictures with the fans, wanting to give a little back to the people who had made his dream possible, but this time Marx had a firm grip on Jaskier’s arm, dragging him away from the shouting crowds and to the nearest exit. It was first time Jaskier was actually thankful for the unwanted touch, knowing the faster he got away from the airport the sooner he would be with Geralt again. The thought eased his heart a little, even as he parried over what he would tell Geralt.

“Taxi’s this way?” Marx pointed out as Jaskier went to walk in the opposite direction of the waiting line of taxis.

“My car’s parked in the car park.” Jaskier said, thanking Triss to no end when she had texted to say she’d dropped Jaskier’s car off so he could get home without having to get a taxi. Geralt always offered to pick Jaskier up from the airport but given the number of fans that accompanied Jaskier’s arrival back in the country Jaskier had always refused. If his fans saw Jaskier getting into Geralt’s car the news would have gone viral by the end of the day.

“At least let me walk you back to the car.” Marx said, as if he cared Jaskier thought darkly. 

“I’m good thanks. See you Monday.” Jaskier shouted, waving over his shoulder and all but running away from the man. The further Jaskier got from Marx, the easier the pain he’d been feeling started to ease.

The car park was a good 20 minutes walk from the airport terminal and usually there would be buses their to ferry travellers to their cars but Jaskier wanted the walk. Needed it. The slight breeze and quiet calm of the walk cleared Jaskier more than it had been in weeks. By the time Jaskier was climbing into his car, he could feel all of the tension leak out of him. He was going home.

Jaskier pulled up the loudest music he could find on his playlist, singing along to the familiar lyrics as he pulled away from the airport and drove the familiar path home. How many times had he driven this rode, on his way home to Geralt. Jaskier could almost pretend this was like no other time he had left. That going home nothing had changed.

Geralt and Yennefer’s car was in the driveway and Jaskier felt a smile tug at his lips as he pulled up in his usual spot. If Yennefer was here that meant Ciri was to. He hated to intrude on Yennefer’s time with her daughter but Jaskier wanted to see Ciri as much as he wanted to see Geralt. Wanted to see his whole family, standing their waiting for him. Happy and the same as Jaskier had left it. 

Jaskier had barely gotten his suitcase out of the boot when the front door opened and Ciri was running at him. Jaskier dropped the suitcase, dropping to his knees and letting Ciri’s hug engulf him. Joy filled him as Ciri hugged him tightly, blonde hair flying in all directions. “I missed you.” Ciri declared happily as Jaskier hugged her back.

“I missed you too.” Jaskier promised.

When Ciri finally let go, Jaskier got to his feet and his eyes immediately landed on Geralt. The white-haired man was standing a meter away, warm smile on his face and amber eyes alight with love and happiness. Jaskier felt his heart constrict at the sight. Geralt looked so happy to see him and all Jaskier wanted to was fall into his warm arms and cry into his chest. All he wanted to do was tell Geralt everything and let his partner comfort him. But he couldn’t.

Jaskier couldn’t tell Geralt a fucking thing about the last 2 weeks. And that knowledge shattered any pretence Jaskier had been holding onto that things could ever go back to normal.


	7. Chapter 7

The last 2 weeks had been hard for Geralt. He had missed Jaskier. Missed Jaskier’s easy smiles, easy conversation. Missed Jaskier’s warm solid weight at his side as they slept. Missed the feeling of Jaskier in his arms. Ciri had obviously missed Jaskier too, being more quiet than usual the last 2 weeks. Jaskier was a constant source of noise and excitement, so much so that when he wasn’t there the silence was obvious and deafening.

Ciri had been off school for Spring half term and it had been good. Geralt always enjoyed getting to spend his days with his daughter, taking her to the park, or museums or amusement parks. And Yennefer had enjoyed it to. The 3 of them had gone to each activity as a small family, enjoying the time together as Ciri laughed and enjoyed herself. Geralt always loved to see Ciri smile, face split into a wide and wicked grin, but the whole week had been soured by the simple fact that Jaskier wasn’t there.

Jaskier didn’t usually come with them to museums or amusement parks, wanting to keep Geralt and Ciri away from the prying eyes of his fans and the media that would surely recognise Jaskier at those places. And Geralt understood that, even though he wanted nothing more than to hold Jaskier’s hand as Ciri pointed out every single thing she saw walking through the museum. But he understood. And it always helped that Jaskier would make up his absence from these events in the best ways. 

Jaskier would drag Geralt, Ciri and Yennefer on occasion to the small lake by their home or the park, sunglasses in place so no one would recognise him and spend every second doting on Geralt’s daughter. Geralt couldn’t help but chuckle about one memorable adventure to the lake not 2 months ago. Jaskier had had the great idea to feed the duck there. He’d gone to the effort of buying proper duck food and he and Ciri had been ankle deep in the deep depths of the water as they threw the food to the ducks. Geralt had taken a picture that he still used as the wallpaper on his phone of Jaskier and Ciri, faces alight with laughter as they watched the ducks tackle each other over the food. And then, of course because nothing was simple with Jaskier, a goose had gotten very close to the musician and Ciri. Ciri had screeched as the gooses beak ducked into her bag of food, dropping the bag and running from the lake for cover as the goose started on the now dropped food. And Jaskier had jumped in fright, tripping over his own feet and ended up falling into the lake. Ciri had been rolling on the ground in laughter as Jaskier exited the lake, dripping from head to toe. Jaskier had taken one look at Ciri and had burst into his own laughter as well, grabbing Ciri into a watery wet hug which had Ciri screeching and struggling to get away from the sopping musician.

That memory only made Jaskier’s absence this past week felt all the more cleanly by Geralt. So when Geralt watched as Jaskier’s car pulled into the car park he felt a smile split across his face. “Jaskier’s here.” Ciri shouted from her place at the window. She had been there since Jaskier had texted to say his flight had landed, waiting for Jaskier to return home. 

Yennefer turned her violet eyes onto Geralt, rolling her eyes even as a small smile crossed her face. Her relationship with Jaskier was a strange one for Geralt. The 2 acted as if they hated each other, ribbing each other with insults at every opportunity. But there was respect there as well. Geralt hadn’t been sure how Yennefer would react to Jaskier being apart of Ciri’s life, she was as protective as their daughter as Geralt was after all, but Yennefer had accepted it. She was even willing to share her specified time with her daughter with Jaskier. Because Yennefer, like Geralt, understood how much Jaskier meant to Ciri and Ciri to Jaskier.

Leaving Yennefer in the kitchen, pulling out the taco’s she had been making in readiness for Jaskier’s return, Geralt followed his daughter out of the house. As Ciri jumped into Jaskier’s arms, Jaskier hugging her just a fiercely as she was him, Geralt felt a warm smile light his face up. When Ciri finally let Jaskier go, running into the house to help Yennefer with dinner (and give Geralt and Jaskier some privacy) Geralt turned his face towards Jaskier. Bright blue eyes lit up upon seeing Geralt, smile appearing on Jaskier’s tired face. Before falling.

Geralt felt his heart plummet, confusion running through him as he saw Jaskier’s bright blue eyes dim, mile turning down as he looked at Geralt. Just looked at his partner, not even moving to hug Geralt. Usually Jaskier would be on Geralt hugging and kissing him before Geralt had even registered Jaskier being there but this time Jaskier stood as if frozen. Grunting, Geralt walked over, wrapping arms around Jaskier as worry gnawed at his heart. Jaskier remained stiff in Geralt’s arms, head ducked against Geralt’s chest so Geralt couldn’t see him. And then Jaskier wrapped arms around Geralt’s waist, turning bright blue eyes to Geralt’s and smiled the fake smile Geralt only ever saw Jaskier use during interviews.

His bright blue eyes betrayed how tired Jaskier was. There was tension in Jaskier’s shoulders, posture stiff. Jaskier lifted his head to kiss Geralt’s lips as he always did but rather than the feeling of Jaskier melting against Geralt, Geralt only felt Jaskier’s soft lips hesitant in their kiss. Not the deep full kiss that Jaskier always gave, but hesitant and light. As if Jaskier was afraid to touch him. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. But before Geralt could say anything, Ciri was running out to tell them dinner was almost ready.

Jaskier laughed, the laughter not quite reaching the deep blues as he pulled away from Geralt and grabbed his suitcase. “We better get in then. Don’t want to leave Yennefer waiting.” Before Geralt could say anything Jaskier was already heading inside, dropping his suitcase off to the side to deal with later.

“How was America?” Yennefer asked as she placed the food on the table ready for them to eat. Geralt felt Jaskier stiffen at his side but the smile never left Jaskier’s face.

“Busy.” Jaskier offered, taking a small bite of the food.

“That’s it. Busy.” Yennefer said, violet eyes blazing as she looked at Jaskier. “Usually we can’t get you to shut up about it.”

“You mean you usually can’t get me to shut up about anything.” Jaskier retorted and Geralt could almost pretend this was the usual banter between Jaskier and Yennefer but the tightness in Jaskier’s features wouldn’t let him believe that. Yennefer hummed, violet eyes drifting to Geralt before darting back to Jaskier. “So, Ciri how was your half term holiday?” Jaskier asked, eyes turning to Ciri and effectively pushing the conversation away from himself.

Ciri launched into an explanation of every activity they had completed that week and Geralt found himself tuning Ciri out slightly, focusing entirely on Jaskier. Jaskier hummed and nodded in the right places but he didn’t ask Ciri ridiculous questions like he usually would. When the conversation drifted from Ciri’s half term, Jaskier barely contributed to the conversation, instead doing a perfect impression of Geralt as he hummed and nodded along with the words but Geralt could tell he wasn’t really listening. Jaskier was barely eating either, picking at his food rather than actually eating it. There was an exhausted slump in Jaskier’s shoulders and Geralt wondered if Jaskier was just tired. He knew Jaskier had had an exhausting 2 weeks from the telephone calls they had shared.

“Well, I think we better go.” Yennefer said, nodding to the clock which now read 7pm. Geralt grunted, standing up from his place on the couch where they had moved to once dinner had been eaten and cleaned away. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow Jask.” Ciri announced, hugging Jaskier quickly before tackling Geralt into a bear hug.

“Tomorrow?” Jaskier asked, speaking for the first time in over an hour.

“Vesemir said since you missed last months Sunday dinner that we should do one when you came back.” Yennefer explained.

“Oh. He didn’t have to.” Jaskier said, eyes dropping to the floor. 

“Your family Jaskier. We all wanted to.” Yennefer said in a rare show of affection, squeezing Jaskier’s arm softly before ushering Ciri out of the house. Geralt and Jaskier stood at the doorstep waving Ciri and Yennefer off. When their car had disappeared down the drive, Geralt turned to face Jaskier.

Jaskier was leaning against the wall, tiredness running off him in waves. “You ok?” Geralt grunted and Jaskier jumped a little turning blue eyes up to Geralt and smiling softly.

“Yeah. Just tired.” Geralt grunted at this. “I’m going to head to bed.” Jaskier said. Before Geralt could say another word, Jaskier had disappeared up the stairs.

By the time Geralt made it up to follow Jaskier, 10 minutes later after tidying up the mugs of tea and hot chocolate they had shared before Yennefer and Ciri had disappeared, Jaskier was already in the bed. Geralt quickly changed, brushed his teeth and climbed into the bed. Usually Jaskier would turn over, wrapping himself around Geralt before falling asleep but this time Jaskier remained where he was, curled into a ball on his side of the bed facing away from Geralt.

“Goodnight Jask.” Geralt offered, quietly.

“Goodnight Geralt.” Jaskier replied, quietly. Geralt turned the light off with a heavy heart. Something was most definitely not ok with Jaskier and Geralt didn’t think it had anything to with exhaustion.

…….

Jaskier was still asleep when Geralt woke up the next morning. The sun was shining through the curtains, highlighting Jaskier’s head in a warm halo. Geralt hummed, gently stroking a hand through Jaskier’s hair as he listened to Jaskier’s even breathing on the other side of the bed. He had missed this, waking up beside his love. Jaskier shifted under Geralt’s fingers. Geralt smiled softly, gentling Jaskier’s movements with gentle strokes as Jaskier hummed softly in sleep.

Geralt knew he should probably get up but he didn’t want to leave the warm bed with his partner lying next to him in blissful peace. So he remained in the bed with Jaskier’s warm weight on the other side. He shifted slightly so the back of Jaskier’s body was pressed against Geralt’s chest. Jaskier hummed, body leaning into Geralt’s chest in sleep. Geralt still couldn’t see Jaskier’s face but he could imagine the soft expression that was across it.

They la there for a few more moments before Jaskier turned in his sleep, face turning to look at Geralt. His blue eyes blinked blearily up at Geralt, soft smile playing on his face as he snuggled backwards into Geralt’s chest. But Geralt didn’t notice any of this. His whole gaze was focused solely on the ugly purple bruise marring Jaskier’s left cheek. It was yellowy at the edges, turning green before purple. There were parts of the bruise still partly covered by the make-up Jaskier had obviously used to hide the bruise from Geralt. But most of it had rubbed off on the pillow in Jaskier’s sleep.

As Geralt looked at the bruise marring Jaskier’s cheek, he felt red hot anger blaze through him, wondering what the fuck happened?


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy. This chapter was difficult to write so I hope it's ok

Jaskier’s sleep addled brain slowly registered the anger blazing in Geralt’s bright amber eyes. Glancing down at the pillow confirmed Jaskier’s fears. The make-up that he’d re-applied before bed had rubbed off on the pillow, showing the dark purple bruise on Jaskier’s cheek. Jaskier reached fingers up to touch the bruise, wincing slightly at the memory of Marx’s fist connecting with his face.

“What the hell happened Jaskier?” Geralt growled. Jaskier had turned his face away from Geralt to look at the pillow and he was glad Geralt couldn’t see the tears Jaskier could feel building up in his eyes. He wanted to tell Geralt the truth. Wanted to tell him everything that had happened. How Marx had made Jaskier feel. How Marx had hit Jaskier. He wanted to let Geralt wrap in him in his strong embrace as Jaskier cried out all the emotions that had been bottling up for the last 2 weeks. But he couldn’t. Not unless he wanted Marx to go through with his threat. 

“Jask?” Geralt placed a warm hand on Jaskier’s back, voice soft as he gently stroked Jaskier through the thin covering of his shirt.

Jaskier fought back the tears. Fought against the overwhelming need to tell Geralt everything. Turning in the bed so Jaskier was now chest to chest with Geralt, Jaskier offered Geralt a smile which he knew was brittle around the edges. Geralt’s face was full of comfort, warmth and worry. “I’m fine. Nothing happened.”

“Bullshit.” Geralt snapped, amber eyes flashing as they fixed on the dark bruise marring Jaskier’s face.

“I tripped and fell. That’s all.” Jaskier tried to assure him but he knew his voice was wobbly. Knew Geralt could hear clearly the lie in his voice. But Jaskier couldn’t admit the truth. He wouldn’t risk Marx telling the media that Geralt had been the one to do this. He wouldn’t risk destroying Geralt’s reputation. Destroying Geralt’s privacy. So he smiled softly at Geralt, hand coming down to trace Geralt’s jaw. “Honestly, Geralt. Nothing happened. I was just tired and tripped in my hotel room and managed to smash my face against the cabinet. An embarrassing accident.” 

“Why are you lying Jask?” Geralt asked, voice more vulnerable than Jaskier had ever heard it. 

Jaskier steeled himself as he continued with the lie. “I’m not lying Geralt. Dear heart, I promise. Nothing happened. I’m fine.” Jaskier said, placing a soft kiss to Geralt’s lips. He hated to lie to Geralt. Hated it more than anything. But he didn’t have a choice. To tell Geralt the truth. Geralt, the protective idiot that he was, would confront Marx. Intent on protecting Jaskier. Even if Jaskier told Geralt why he couldn’t confront Marx, why Jaskier couldn’t do anything, it wouldn’t matter. Geralt wouldn’t listen to him. And confronting Marx, as good as that would make Jaskier feel, would result in Geralt’s privacy being ruined. His reputation ruined. And Jaskier would not allow it. So he swallowed down the guilt at lying and instead smiled at Geralt.

……

Geralt knew Jaskier was lying. He could see it in the guilt written in Jaskier’s eyes. Jaskier wore his heart on his sleeve. He always had as long as Geralt had met him. And even if he didn’t those bright blue eyes always betrayed the truth in Jaskier’s heart. So Geralt knew Jaskier was lying. He didn’t know why. He didn’t understand why Jaskier was lying about a bruise. If someone had hit him then Jaskier had no reason to lie. So Geralt didn’t understand why he was.

“Geralt, love.” Jaskier asked, murmuring against Geralt’s lips where he broke the soft kiss. Geralt hummed, against the soft feel of Jaskier’s lips. “I’m fine.” Jaskier lied.

Geralt wanted to call him out on the lie, wanted to demand why Jaskier was lying to him but as Jaskier leaned back, Geralt getting a full view of Jaskier’s face. Bruise dark against the pale skin there, bright blue eyes wide and pleading for Geralt to believe him. Geralt grunted, “Ok.” Jaskier’s shoulders sagged, relief crossing his face as he offered Geralt a dazzling bright smile which Geralt tried to return even though worry was clawing through him as his eyes remained fixed on the purple bruise marring Jaskier’s face.

“Thank you.” Jaskier murmured, leaning into kiss Geralt softly on the lips. Geralt barely responded to the warmth of the kiss. “I’m going to get dressed.” Jaskier smiled softly, climbing out of the bed and towards the small en-suite bathroom. Geralt said nothing, just watched Jaskier’s retreating figure, confusion running through every part of him.

……..

Jaskier sighed in relief as he stood in the bathroom, hands clasping the sink. Looking in the mirror, he winced at the bruise across his face. He knew he hadn’t convinced Geralt. Geralt knew Jaskier to well to be fooled by Jaskier’s pathetic attempts at lying. But Geralt had dropped it. For now at least. And that was as much of a consolation Jaskier could take for the time being at least.

So he pushed aside the guilt welling up, stripping from his clothes and getting into the shower. Ciri had said they’d been invited to Vesemir’s for Sunday dinner. That was only in a few hours. Jaskier was shaky as he ran the shampoo through his hair, closing his eyes as he pushed away images of Marx’s fist connecting with his face. A few hours was plenty of time for Jaskier to pull himself together again. To pretend everything was fine. To convince his family that everything was ok. If all went well, then Geralt would just presume Jaskier’s nervousness explaining where the bruise had come from was merely tiredness. Not a lie.

Jaskier hated to lie. Especially to the people he saw as his family. But he didn’t have a choice. So he would just have to lie convincingly enough so that no one else showed the same worried look as Geralt had.

….

Geralt was downstairs sitting at the dining room when Jaskier finally came downstairs. He’d been staring at the now cold cup of tea for the last half hour now, listening to Jaskier as his partner moved around his bedroom getting ready for the day. 

“Tea?” Jaskier asked, smiling brightly as he re-boiled the kettle, moving around the kitchen in his usual easy grace as he filled the cup with milk and a tea bag. Geralt grunted, eyes fixed on Jaskier. If he thought he’d see something odd about the way Jaskier was acting he was wrong. Jaskier had obviously put make-up back on, the bruise now completely vanished. If Geralt didn’t know it was there he would never suspect Jaskier had been hurt. Jaskier was dressed in his usual skinny jeans, black today, with a turquoise blue button up shirt. He’d left the top 3 buttons open, giving Geralt a view of the chest hair poking out. If it were any ordinary day, the sight of Jaskier like this might have sent lust running through Geralt and Geralt would have taken Jaskier back to bed. But this wasn’t an ordinary day.

Jaskier’s movements weren’t as smooth as they usually were. There was a nervousness in them as Jaskier sat at the table. The smile he shot Geralt was just slightly to forced for Geralt to believe it was genuine and the brightness in Jaskier’s blue eyes were dimmed ever so slightly. To anyone else, there would be nothing obviously wrong with Jaskier. But to Geralt, the tiny little differences in Jaskier’s usually bright and vibrant personality were more telling than anything else.

“ What time are we heading to Vesemir’s?” Jaskier asked, voice cheery as he drank the tea, avoiding the toast Geralt had laid out completely. Another odd thing, Jaskier was usually starving when he got back from a few weeks away, the idiot spending forgetting to eat half the time to engrossed with whatever it was he did on those press tours. Jaskier had tried to explain it to Geralt a few times but Geralt had never really understood the intrici’s surrounding the media interviews and promotions Jaskier’s career demanded.

“12. Triss asked if you’re good to help with dinner.” Geralt grunted, turning eyes to Jaskier. “If you’re too tired she’ll understand.” Geralt added, knowing how exhausted Jaskier had been the night before.

“No it’s fine. I like helping.” Jaskier assured him with a bright smile. “I’ll get my suitcase unpacked.” Jaskier announced, nodding to the abandoned suitcase from the night before.

“I can help.” Geralt offered but Jaskier shook his head, a real smile playing on his lips now.

“I’m not letting you anywhere near my clothes. You wouldn’t have a clue how to wash them.”

“They’re just clothes.” Geralt sighed, smiling at the affronted look Jaskier gave him.

“Just clothes. Geralt, really. If you wash my clothes like you’re you’ll ruin them and then where would I be. Wearing you’re clothes?” Jaskier asked, eyes beaming as he spoke.

Geralt just huffed, “You look good in my clothes.” Jaskier flushed a shade of red, slightly subdued thanks to all the make-up he was wearing. Geralt hummed, amber eyes blazing on Jaskier as he imagined Jaskier wearing his clothing, the clothing hanging off Jaskier’s leather frame. As Jaskier stood, Geralt following, crowding Jaskier and kissing him fiercely. Jaskier let out a chuckle, returning the kiss just as fiercely, arms wrapping around Geralt’s shoulders.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, Geralt and Jaskier’s lips locked in a heartfelt kiss. Geralt felt the worry slowly leak out of him as he held Jaskier’s close to his body, breathing in the smell that was uniquely Jaskier. “Come on love.” Jaskier huffed, breaking the kiss with a soft smile. Blue eyes, bright with love and affection fixed on Geralt’s. “If we keep going, we’ll end up being late for Vesemir’s.” Geralt growled, not caring in the slightest. But Jaskier gently extricated himself from Geralt’s grip with a laugh as Geralt growled low in his throat. “Needy.” Jaskier chuckled, kissing Geralt once more before moving to start emptying his suitcase.

Geralt watched Jaskier move away, the tenseness in Jaskier’s posture having disappeared. He looked relaxed, sending Geralt a warm smile as he sorted through the contents of the suitcase. The tightness in Jaskier’s face was gone, features soft and relaxed. Geralt could almost pretend the bruise wasn’t there. Almost pretend Jaskier hadn’t lied about how he had gotten it. Almost.

…. 

“Jaskier.” Triss shouted enthusiastically as she pulled Jaskier into a warm hug. Jaskier laughed, hugging her back just as warmly. “Thank God you’re here. I can’t take not having my sou chef here.” Jaskier laughed, blue eyes glimmering with laughter as Geralt walked into the living room, Ciri following along behind him. She had greeted Jaskier and Geralt at the door, throwing herself at Jaskier and then Geralt in greeting.

“Hey.” Eskel shouted from his seat on one of the armchairs.

“It’s not my fault I do a better job at helping.” Jaskier retorted, smiling widely as he let Triss pull him into the kitchen. Geralt grunted, watching Jaskier disappear through the door before taking a seat on the sofa next to Lambert. 

Ciri had followed Jaskier and Triss into the kitchen, intending to help even though Geralt knew she would cause more distraction than anything else. Vesemir offered Geralt a nod in greeting, which Geralt returned. “Good to see Jaskier back.” Vesemir said, smiling as he heard Jaskier’s voice echoing through from the kitchen.

“Yeah. I owe him for last month. Getting Ciri to not let me eat desert. Pay time will be a bitch.” Lambert grinned, ignoring the glare Yennefer sent him at the swear word. Geralt just hummed in response, mind still running over the events of the morning.

The lie Jaskier had told still bothered Geralt, but not nearly as much as the drastic turn in Jaskier’s attitude. Jaskier had been quiet, nervous upon waking and Geralt seeing the bruise. But within an hour, Jaskier had switched to the happy energetic man Geralt had always known. Acting as if nothing had even happened. Except every once in a while, Geralt saw Jaskier’s hand drift to where the bruise lay hidden underneath a layer of make-up, usually when Jaskier didn’t think Geralt was watching. Geralt had seen the dim look that crossed Jaskier’s eyes and the smile fade from Jaskier’s face before the musician forced himself to smile again. Geralt knew something was wrong. It was painfully obvious. Except Geralt didn’t know how to get Jaskier to tell him. Not when Jaskier was acting as if everything was fine.

“What’s wrong?” Yennefer asked, pulling Geralt’s thoughts. Geralt grunted, moving his eyes from where he’d been glaring at the floor and turning them to Yennefer. Eskel, Lambert and Vesemir were all looking at Geralt with worry in their faces. 

“It’s Jaskier.” Geralt grunted, heart clenching as Jaskier’s laugh filtered into the living room. There was a tension in Jaskier’s laugh that most people wouldn’t hear. Geralt might not have even noticed if he wasn’t aware something was wrong.

“Are you and Jaskier having problems?” Vesemir asked gently. Geralt shook his head.

“He has a bruise on his face.” Geralt answered, keeping his voice soft even though he knew Jaskier wouldn’t be able to hear him from the kitchen. “He said he fell over. He’s lying.” Geralt grunted.

“You’re sure?” Yennefer asked, voice full of concern as she fixed violet eyes onto Geralt’s. Geralt just hummed.

“You think someone hurt him?” Lambert asked, fists clenched at his side. Eskel’s scarred face was a picture of worry next to Lambert and Geralt could see the concern in Vesemir’s face.

“I don’t know.” Geralt grunted. “I just…he said it was an accident but…Jaskier lied. I don’t understand why he would lie.” Geralt sighed. Jaskier had never lied to Geralt. He might have omitted the truth on occasion but he had never lied to him.

“I’m sure there’s a good reason for it.” Vesemir stated, the voice of reason as always. “If he wants to talk about it he will.”

“But if someone hurt him we can’t just ignore it.” Lambert growled, anger rolling off him.

“No, but pushing him won’t get Jaskier to tell us the truth.” Yennefer continued. “Vesemir’s right, Jaskier will tell us if he wants to. Until then we should just be there for him.” Geralt hated that Yennefer was right. Hated that there was nothing he could do to make Jaskier to tell them the truth. But Vesemir and Yennefer were right. Jaskier would tell him what was wrong when he wanted to. Until then, Geralt would just have to be there for him.

…..

“So how was America?” Triss asked, excitement in her tone as she directed Ciri in peeling potatoes. Jaskier was cutting vegetables, ready for Triss to put in the steamer.

“Busy.” Jaskier answered, concentrating more on the vegetable cutting than he usually would.

“I’ve never been to LA. What’s it like?” Triss asked as she took the freshly peeled potatoes from Ciri and started cutting them up.

“Can I cut them?” Ciri asked.

“Carefully.” Triss said, showing Ciri how to cut the potatoes into the correct shapes before turning a questioning eye back on Jaskier.

“It’s good. Busy. Nothing like home.” Jaskier said. He didn’t want to talk about his trip. He didn’t want to ruin the day with memories and thoughts of everything that had happened. “Honestly it’s good to be home.” Jaskier continued, voice sincere as he dropped the vegetables into the steamer.

“It’s good for you to be home to.” Triss said. “We missed you.”

“I missed you to.” Jaskier smiled, heart warming at Triss’ words. He really had missed them and to know they had missed him sent a warm thrill through his heart. As long as he had his family here, Jaskier thought he could deal with whatever shit Marx threw at him when he got back to work.

As they sat down for dinner, Jaskier couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong. Geralt was sitting at his usual place, tension in his shoulders and when Jaskier sat he could feel the fierce look of Lambert and Eskel on him. Glancing at Geralt’s brothers he was surprised to see worry in Eskel’s eyes and anger in Lambert’s. Yennefer was also watching Jaskier, concern in those violet eyes. Jaskier felt a pit grow in his stomach as he dropped his eyes down to the plate of food in front of him. Geralt had told them. There was no reason any of them should be looking at him with worry and concern if Geralt hadn’t told them.

Vesemir coughed, turning his eyes to face Jaskier. His face was warm as it always was, smile in place, but Jaskier could see the concern clear as day in his eyes. Jaskier took a shaky hand, taking a long drink and fixing the brittle smile back on his face, pretending as if everything was still ok. “So, how was your trip?” Vesemir asked.

Jaskier smiled, knowing the smile didn’t reach his eyes as he looked down the table. The only ones not looking at him in concern were Triss and Ciri, but then Triss had been with Jaskier the entire time so wouldn’t know what was wrong, and Ciri was too young to understand the implications of a bruise on Jaskier’s face, let alone the fact that Jaskier had lied about how it got there. “You know, the usual.” Jaskier said, trying to sound non-committal in his response even though he knew his voice was tight as he spoke. The eyes of his family fixed on him had guilt welling up in Jaskier. How easily it would be to tell them the truth. They would understand. They would be able to offer the comfort Jaskier so desperately craved. But he couldn’t. So instead he said, “Mainly it was just long and tiring. I’d much rather hear what you all did.”

And thank God for Ciri who immediately jumped in with a long and drawn out explanation of her trip to the museum with Geralt. Jaskier sighed in relief, as the attention was brought back to Ciri, eyes turning to his plate as he moved the food around. He wasn’t hungry. The guilt that had been growing inside of him at lying to Geralt was making his stomach feel queasy but he knew not eating would raise more questions so he forced himself to eat. As Jaskier focused on his food, he tried to ignore the worried glances sent his way.

…..

Yennefer watched as Ciri hugged Geralt and Jaskier goodbye. As the afternoon wore on, she had seen Jaskier become more and more reserved. His eyes dim and body tight with tension. When asked if he was ok, Jaskier had said he was just tired, the jet lag getting to him and Yennefer, while believing Jaskier’s words, knew it was something more.

Geralt telling them of Jaskier’s bruise had sent anger and concern running through her. Even more so when she heard Jaskier had lied about it. She didn’t for a second doubt that Jaskier had lied. She had seen Jaskier when had first come back and she knew something had been off then. Jaskier was always tired when he returned from a trip but the sight of Ciri and Geralt always managed to drag him out of his tired slump, eyes and face beaming as he excitedly talked to Ciri about every minute detail, leaning against Geralt as he did so. But the night he had returned he had been subdued. Quiet.

Yennefer had told Triss quietly what Geralt had said halfway through the afternoon, when Jaskier was distracted sitting on the floor with Ciri as she doodled away on the coffee table. She’d taken Triss into the kitchen, thankful she had when Triss had sworn in shock. The brown-haired woman had wanted to confront Jaskier then and while Yennefer had similar feelings she knew it wouldn’t do any good. If they forced Jaskier to tell them the truth he would just clam up. 

No, as much as it hurt Yennefer and everyone else, they would have to wait until Jaskier chose to tell them what had happened. If he ever did. Yennefer just hoped whatever was wrong had been an isolated incident. But somehow she doubted it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the reviews and apologies in advance, things are going to get worse before they get better.


	9. Chapter 9

“You don’t have to go.” Geralt stated, frown fixed on his face as he watched Jaskier’s tired figure slumped at the kitchen table. It wasn’t only just gone 7 in the morning and Geralt had been woken to Jaskier’s quiet steps leaving their bedroom.

Jaskier looked up, surprise in his blue eyes as he looked at Geralt. “I wish it were that simple.” Geralt frowned at this, not understanding why it wasn’t. Jaskier had been quiet the journey back from Vesemir’s yesterday and had barely said a word the whole night. When Jaskier had gone to bed at 9, Geralt had felt the worry run through him at the tiredness in Jaskier’s posture. He’d tried to ask if Jaskier was alright multiple times yesterday and Jaskier had just kept saying he was fine, offering Geralt a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Why isn’t it?” Geralt asked, standing behind Jaskier’s chair. Jaskier leaned back into Geralt’s chest, eyes closed and a sigh escaping his lips.

“I have a meeting with the label this morning. And I’ve got to prep for that with management.” Jaskier sighed, tightness appearing around his eyes. Geralt dropped his head, placing a soft kiss on Jaskier’s lips. Jaskier returned it, moaning softly into the kiss. Geralt hummed, relishing the feeling of Jaskier’s hand lifting to wrap in Geralt’s white hair.

“You can stay here. Go in later. They’ll understand.” Geralt murmured. Jaskier had been working none stop for weeks now. Surely he deserved a late start.

Jaskier sighed, breaking the kiss but not moving himself away from the closeness of Geralt’s face or moving his hair from where it was tangled in Geralt’s hair. “No they won’t.” Something akin to defeat flashed through Jaskier’s eyes but before Geralt could comment on it, Jaskier moved himself so he was standing. “I really do have to go.”

Geralt sighed. He wanted Jaskier to stay home. Didn’t want Jaskier out of his sight, not when the worry of the mystery bruise was still so fresh in his mind. “What time will you be home?” Geralt asked, instead of saying what he wanted to say. Instead of asking Jaskier to say.

“I don’t know.” Jaskier sighed, guilt flashing across his face as he wrapped arms around Geralt’s broad chest. “I’m sorry Geralt. I wish I didn’t have to go.” 

“You don’t have to.” Geralt tried but Jaskier just shook his head from where it was buried in Geralt’s neck.

“I do. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Jaskier said, lifting his head to kiss Geralt softly.

As Jaskier grabbed his coat, hand resting on the doorknob Geralt said, “You know you can tell me anything Jaskier. Anything.” Jaskier smiled sadly, eyes shining in the dim morning light.

“I love you Geralt.” Jaskier said instead, smiling softly at Geralt before exiting the room.

“I love you too.” Geralt said as the door shut behind Jaskier. As Geralt watched from the living room window Jaskier climb into his car and drive away, he couldn’t help but think that Jaskier didn’t know he could tell him anything. And that sent the worry doubling inside him.

…….

“You were meant to be here half an hour ago.” Marx sighed in exasperation as Jaskier walked into the meeting room Marx had booked out at the label for the day. Jaskier sighed in confusion as he shrugged out of his jacket, placing his bag on the floor.

“I thought we weren’t meant to meet until half 8?” By Jaskier’s estimation he was early.

“Half 7, songbird. Weren’t you listening when I told you.” Marx rolled his eyes. “Well, it doesn’t matter. The meeting with the label is in an hour.”

“I thought…” Jaskier trailed off. It didn’t matter what he thought. Everything he knew about his schedule came from Marx. If he chose to tell Jaskier the wrong time then…well…there wasn’t much Jaskier could actually do about that.

“Now, let’s go through a run through of the LA trip.” Marx stated, smiling at Jaskier’s subdued quiet. Jaskier just nodded. He could feel defeat crawling through him and he hated it. Hated that all he wanted to do was throw himself across the table and throttle Marx. Hated that he couldn’t do that, not if wanted to protect Geralt. “So the trip was successful in terms of getting you back in the lime light.” Marx frowned, pushing the magazine that had published about Jaskier’s so called diva moment in front of Jaskier. “But perhaps not in the way that we wanted. I’ll be blunt.” Jaskier wondered when exactly Marx was anything but blunt. “The labels not happy. Their pissed. You keep acting like you have been and they’ll drop you.”

And how the fuck have I been acting.” Jaskier bristled, the anger getting the better of him for a moment.

Marx’s eyes flashed, fist clenching at his side and Jaskier thought that if they had been in a more private place then Marx might have actually hit Jaskier. “Like a spoilt brat.” Marx retorted. Jaskier’s eyes flashed in anger but he bit back the retort that was readying itself on his tongue. He’d always had a quick tongue, speaking before he even thought of the consequences but he couldn’t afford to anger Marx to much. 

Jaskier saw the smirk that crossed Marx’s face as he watched Jaskier bite back a retort and all Jaskier wanted to do was wipe that smile from Marx’s face. “Anyhow. We can work through this. You just need to prove you want this still.” Jaskier wanted to say he did still want it but if he did he knew he’d been lying because he didn’t think he did anymore. Not if Marx was the price he had to pay to have it.

“What if I said I didn’t want it anymore?” Jaskier asked, almost too quietly for Marx to hear. As Jaskier said it he felt hope fill his chest. If he didn’t want this anymore then he wouldn’t have to deal with Marx. He could pretend the last 2 weeks hadn’t happened. He could spend all his time with his family. If only things were that simple.

Anger blazed through Marx’s eyes as they flashed to the small window looking out into the hall. It was quiet, still too early for most of the label’s employee to be here. Quicker than Jaskier could react to, Marx grabbed hold of Jaskier’s wrist, yanking it harshly so Jaskier was pulled forward, the table edge digging painfully into his stomach. He tried to shake out of Marx’s grip, wincing at the painful grip Marx had on his wrist.

“Listen to me you ungrateful little brat.” Marx growled, eyes still darting to the window to make sure no one would come in. “You are not quitting. This is my big fucking break. Managing you and I don’t care if you’re don’t want it anymore because you are going to fucking pretend you do.”

“You can’t do this.” Jaskier growled, eyes blazing in anger.

Marx’s face transformed into a smirk. “I can do whatever the fuck I like to you. Unless you want me to go to the press with Geralt Rivia’s name. His daughters name. The name of his brothers, Ciri’s Mother. His Father, that other girl who goes to those pathetic little dinners you go to.”

“How?” Jaskier stuttered, heart spluttering in his chest. How did Marx know about the family dinners. Jaskier hadn’t told anyone about them.

“I had someone follow you.” Marx grinned, smile as harsh as a shark’s might be. Jaskier gulped, wincing at the way Marx’s grip on his wrist tightened. “You really think I’d let my new asset wander around without someone watching them. I know everyone of your dirty little secrets, and I will leak every single one of them to the press. You won’t be able to move for them if you quit. Neither will your pathetic little family.”

“You can’t…” Jaskier tried, knowing the protest was weak. 

“I can.” Marx snarled, pushing Jaskier’s wrist away as he sneered at Jaskier. Jaskier pushed back the tears forming in his eyes. “I can do whatever the fuck I want to you and there is nothing you can say or do to stop that, is there?” 

“No.” Jaskier’s voice was barely audible as he dropped his eyes to the table. Marx was right. If Jaskier didn’t want to hurt his family then he would have to do anything Marx told him to. Anything. And that very thought filled Jaskier with undeniable dread.

“Good.” Marx smiled now, pushing a piece of paper across to Jaskier. Jaskier picked it up shakily. “Then I don’t suppose you’ll have any objection to this?” Jaskier read the paper detailing a new diet regime. He hated dieting, never did. Had never had to before. 

He didn’t want to say yes but instead he nodded. Marx was smiling again, now discussing something that Jaskier was blocking out. All Jaskier could concentrate on was the fact that his control over his own fucking life had been quite literally snatched from his hands. And there wasn’t anything eh could do about it.

…..

When the label’s management walked in for their meeting, Marx elbowed Jaskier painfully in the ribs, hissing at the musician to smile. Jaskier plastered on the smile, not caring that it was obviously forced. “Valdo, good to see you.” David, the head of the label smiled taking Marx’s hand to shake it. “Jaskier. Always good to see our bright successful star.”

“Good to see you to.” Jaskier forced himself to say, shaking David’s hand before seating himself back on his seat next to Marx. Marx’s hand was gripping Jaskier’s leg. Not painful, merely there as a warning. Jaskier tried to ignore the touch as he turned to face David.

“Firstly, congratulations on the album. It’s brilliant. The best yet.” Jaskier smiled properly for the first time since Marx’s threat, letting the praise wash over him.

“Thank you.” He’d worked hard on this album and was always glad when his music was appreciated.

“We’ve got a world tour planned. Starts in 6 months. Tickets go on sale tomorrow.” Jaskier looked at David in confusion. No one had said anything about a tour. “I know, I know. Short notice but Valdo said you’d love the idea. Chance to see the fans. Give a little back.” David grinned and Jaskier just nodded dumbly, aware of Marx’s hand on his thigh tightening as if to stop Jaskier from talking. David didn’t seem to register Jaskier’s less than excited answer as he continued. “The tour will be just over 3 months. Starting in America, then a few shows in China, Spain, France, Germany. Finishing with 3 weeks tour in the UK.”

“3 months?” Jaskier asked, voice breathless and heart pounding. He’d never been away that long. Priscilla always made sure the tours he went on were never longer than a month. Planning them so Jaskier had time in between shows in each country to go home to Geralt and Ciri. Somehow Jaskier didn’t think Marx would have done that for him.

“Now, now Jaskier.” Marx grinned, laughing lightly as he turned to face Jaskier, hand tightening on Jaskier’s leg. “3 months isn’t really that long and the fans will love it. A show every night. Or near enough.” 

“If it’s too much we can rearrange.” David said, frown on his face. “But the dates went out this morning and if we start cancelling the fans will be disappointed. And to be honest. Look, Jaskier I’ve always liked you your one of our less problematic singers but your behaviour in LA it shone a bad light on you. If you cancel shows now then it could damage your reputation even more.” Jaskier knew David was trying to help but he couldn’t help but feel his life spinning further and further out of his control.

“No…It’s fine. It’s just, just a shock.” Jaskier said, plastering on his fake smile as he turned back to David. “I can’t wait.” The lies were slipping more and more easily from Jaskier’s lips and he hated it. He hated even more the thought of what Geralt was going to say when he told him about this.

“Excellent. Well, I’ll let you two start planning the shows.” David said, smiling once more at Jaskier before leaving him alone with Marx.

……

Jaskier finally made it home that evening at 9pm. Just in time for Ciri’s bedtime, Jaskier thought dully, guilt wrapping around him. He’d spent the day with Marx, listening as he went through the schedule for the tour. Marx hadn’t even let Jaskier have a say in what he would sing. Usually Jaskier had full creative control of his tours but Marx had taken that away from Jaskier, instead insulting Jaskier’s every suggestion. After 3 hours of this Jaskier had just sat quietly, letting Marx and the creative team plan the outline of the performances.

Practice sessions were begun next week. Jaskier had wanted to hope that that would mean he would get the remainder of this week free but he knew there was no point hoping. True to form, Marx had said he needed Jaskier at the label to help plan. He hadn’t said why and Jaskier knew he wouldn’t have a say in any of it, but Jaskier also knew he couldn’t argue.

He felt numbed. 

“Jaskier.” Ciri shouted as Jaskier quietly opened the door. “I thought I wouldn’t see you today.” She said, pulling Jaskier into a hug. Jaskier tried to put as much enthusiasm as he would usually into the hug but he couldn’t bring himself to.

“You’re late.” Geralt noted, amber eyes blazing with concern as he looked at Jaskier.

“Sorry.” Jaskier managed. Ciri let go of Geralt, frown appearing on her face and Jaskier hated himself that he was now making Ciri worry. He forced a smile onto his face, bending down so he was at Ciri’s level. “How about I come up and tell you a story.”

“I’m too old for stories.” Ciri complained and Jaskier chuckled.

“You’re never too old for stories.” Jaskier answered. Ciri seemed to think about that for a moment before nodding.

Quickly, Jaskier pulled off his shoes, following Ciri up to her room. Geralt was tucking Ciri in gently as Jaskier entered. Jaskier felt his heart warm at the sight in front of him. Geralt was always so gentle with Ciri. “What would you like to hear?” Jaskier asked, taking the seat Ciri pointed him to next to her on the bed. Geralt leant against the doorframe, watching them with warm eyes.

“I don’t mind.” Ciri answered and Jaskier thought for a few moments. He had always had an aptitude for thinking up stories on the spot and it had come in handy when Ciri was younger. After a moment, Jaskier began to talk.

“There was once a Prince who was trapped in a tower, his freedom stolen by a wicked sorcerer who stole his freedom and his voice.” Jaskier started, letting his voice turn soft in the way it always did when telling Ciri’s stories. Ciri snuggled into his side, watching him with rapt attention as Jaskier told her about the Prince and how he was forced to bend to the Sorcerer’s evil will, his family and hope stolen from him. “The Prince sat at the top of the tower one day, singing a lament of pain and sorrow to the midnight sky. And a white-haired knight, drawn by the sorrow and pain in the Prince’s song followed the music to the base of the tower.” Jaskier continued, eyes refusing to glance at Geralt as he spoke. “And he forced his way into the castle, slaying the evil sorcerer and saving the Prince. And they lived happily ever after.” Jaskier finished, quietly. 

Ciri was quiet for a moment, emerald eyes drifting closed, a smile on her lips. Jaskier fought back the lump on his throat as he thought of his story. Of how he wished he could let Geralt save him like the white-haired knight had saved his Prince. But real life wasn’t a fairy tale, as much as Jaskier wished it could be. “Goodnight Ciri.” Jaskier whispered, kissing her softly on the head before getting up.

Geralt shut the door softly behind Jaskier, amber eyes warm with concern as he looked at Jaskier. “I’m fine.” Jaskier answered softly so Ciri couldn’t hear, to Geralt’s silent question. “Just tired.”

Geralt grunted, wrapping warm arms around Jaskier. Jaskier let himself melt into the hold, wishing more than anything that he could stay here safe forever and ever. “You can tell me anything. You don’t have to keep whatever’s wrong bottled up.” Geralt grumbled, placing a soft kiss to Jaskier’s head. And Jaskier knew he could pour his heart to Geralt. Should do just that. But he couldn’t.

“Just hold me.” Jaskier whispered, not wanting to lie to Geralt and say he was fine when they both knew it was a lie. Geralt grunted, arms tightening around Jaskier, offering the silent comfort and warmth that Jaskier needed. But it did nothing to fight away the fear growing softly in Jaskier’s chest. Anything. Marx could make Jaskier do anything.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: unwanted sexual advances (not full on sex but still non con elements)

Geralt found out about Jaskier’s impending world tour from Triss. Not Jaskier. Triss. And he was furious. Furious and confused. Confused because Jaskier always told Geralt when he was going away for an extended period of time and furious because Jaskier never went away for more than a month at a time and this tour. It was 3 months. And when Triss showed Geralt the list of places Jaskier would be travelling to, he didn’t even think there was time for Jaskier to get to each venue let alone come home.

It was a little over 2 months after Geralt had seen the bruise on Jaskier’s face and Jaskier had been getting worse ever since. Geralt could see Jaskier becoming quieter and quieter and more and more reserved everyday. Well at least the days he even saw him. The last 2 weeks Jaskier had been coming home later and later, black rings in Jaskier’s eyes. He’d barely said a word to Geralt as he climbed into bed beside Geralt, instead curling into a tiny ball and dropping straight to sleep.

Ciri didn’t understand why Jaskier was missing from their lives all of a sudden. She barely saw him, past a quick hello or goodnight if Jaskier happened to not have to go into work early or get home before the girls bedtime. The bedtime story Jaskier had read to her was probably the most time Jaskier had seen Ciri in 2 months. Jaskier hadn’t even made it to the Sunday dinner last month, not even able to give Geralt a reason why he couldn’t, just saying he was busy.

And Geralt should have been angry. He should be angry because Ciri was distraught that Jaskier wasn’t spending anytime with her. But he couldn’t because there was something so obviously wrong with Jaskier that he couldn’t bring himself to be anything but worried. But now, handing Triss back the phone listing Jaskier’s fucking 3 month world tour, Geralt felt anger bubbling through him.

It was gone 10pm. The bar would be closing in an hour, with any luck Jaskier would be home by then. Geralt would talk to Jaskier then. Find out exactly what the hell Jaskier was playing at, leaving for 3 months and not even telling them.

…….

“Stay songbird.” Marx grinned, arm tightening from where it had been wrapped around Jaskier’s shoulders for hours now. His breath stunk of the wine he’d been drinking all night. Jaskier still held the glass that had been forced into his hand not 5 hours ago when Marx had dragged Jaskier out of rehearsals and into the dingy London club.

“I need to go home.” Jaskier sighed. It was nearing midnight. He should have been home hours ago. They’d packed up for the night at 8pm that night. Jaskier should have been home by 9, waiting for Geralt to come home. At this rate Geralt would be home before him.

“I said fucking stay.” Marx growled, lips pressed against Jaskier’s ear. Jaskier flinched, eyes darting around the club to see if anyone had noticed. But the club was to dark and the corner Marx had dragged Jaskier to was to out of the way for anyone to see the dark anger in Marx’s eyes.

“I need to go home.” Jaskier tried again, pulling away from Marx’s grip.

Marx just tightened his grip around Jaskier’s shoulders so Jaskier’s right side was pinned to Marx’s chest. “You’re going to fucking stay or tomorrow the media will be full of images of your boyfriend.” Jaskier hated the tears building at the corners of his eyes.

“Please, Valdo.” Jaskier whispered, whimpering when Marx bit down on Jaskier’s ear lobe.

“Please what.” Marx growled, lips pressing onto Jaskier’s cheek. Marx’s beard scratched at Jaskier’s clean shaven face and Jaskier tried to shake himself free from his grip but the grip was too tight. “I just want to go home.”

“You don’t get to want anything.” Marx growled, hand trailing up and down Jaskier’s legs. Jaskier’s breath hitched when Marx’s hand came to rest on his inner thigh, mere inches from Jaskier’s clothed cock. “I say what you fucking want remember. Unless you want the media to find out about your family. Unless you want me to tell them Geralt abuses you. Imagine what that will do to him. He could lose his daughter. Could go to prison because of you. Because you couldn’t fucking dop what you were told.” Jaskier whimpered. The smell of alcohol had Jaskier gagging as Marx pressed his lips against Jaskier’s own. Jaskier remained perfectly still as Marx kissed him, teeth nipping at Jaskier’s lips. When Marx was finished, the tears were running down Jaskier’s face fully now and it took all his effort not to burst into uncontrollable sobs as Marx’s hand travelled further up his leg so it was sitting on Jaskier’s clothed cock. “Pretty little thing you are.” Marx grumbled, face still to near Jaskier, squeezing Jaskier’s cock in his hand. Jaskier whimpered, fear running through him. Marx had said anything. He could do anything.

“You’re Jaskier?” A female voice shouted over the din of the music, eyes wide in astonishment as the drink in her hand tipped forwards spilling over the floor as she grabbed her phone from her bag. Jaskier sighed in relief as Marx jumped away from Jaskier as if he’d been burnt. His skin still felt like it was crawling from Marx’s touches, but he could finally breathe easier without the stink of Marx’s sweat and breath surrounding him. “Can I get a picture?” Her voice was eager and hopeful.

Jaskier plastered a smile on his face, wiping his eyes so the tears where gone. “Sure.” He stood, straightening the light purple button up he was wearing and took the phone from her hand. She pressed against his side, grinning madly as he snapped the picture.

“Thanks.” She grinned, running from Jaskier’s side to show her friends.

As soon as she has gone, Marx stood up, disgusted look crossing his face. “Disgusting whore, songbird. You’d have anyone wouldn’t you.”

“She just wanted a picture.” Jaskier argued.

“And that’s why you let her get that close.” Marx snorted. “Pathetic little whore. Go home to your boyfriend. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“It’s my day off tomorrow.” Jaskier argued but Marx just snorted.

“We have shit to go through. I’ll be at the label at 10 you better fucking be there before me.” Marx snarled, grabbing Jaskier’s arm, roughly forcing a kiss onto Jaskier’s lips before stalking away.

Jaskier walked out of the club in a daze, barely registering the noise and people pressed together. When he finally got back to his car, his hands were shaking so much he dropped the keys. Cursing, Jaskier picked them up, opening the door and climbing into the seat. Tears were running down his face and Jaskier couldn’t bring himself to hold them back now he was alone. The feeling of Marx’s touches travelling across his body. The knowledge that there was a fucking thing Jaskier could do to stop him. Not without hurting Geralt. Jaskier sobbed brokenly, resting his head on the steering wheel as he cried.

……

Jaskier wasn’t home when Geralt got there. Geralt felt worry run through him, fighting with the anger that had been bubbling up in Geralt all night. Geralt tripped his coat off, grabbing a can of beer from the fridge and sitting himself on the armchair.

Jaskier hadn’t been himself since coming back from LA. Geralt had no idea what had happened to make Jaskier so quiet, so reserved. To make Jaskier avoid them because Geralt was sure the only reason Jaskier spent so much time at the fucking label was because he was avoiding them. The first few weeks Geralt had thought Jaskier was avoiding them because of the dinner when Geralt had told their family about the bruises. But Jaskier had been missing from Geralt and Ciri’s life for nearly 2 months now. It wasn’t even like he lived with them. They never saw him.

And when Geralt did see Jaskier, Jaskier’s eyes were always hooded. He was always quiet. The bubbly, extravagant flamboyant man Geralt had fallen in love with was missing. Replaced with this…shadow of Jaskier’s former self. He barely even smiled now. And Geralt didn’t know what to do. He had tried telling Jaskier he was there to talk to but Jaskier had always brushed him off with an “I’m fine.” Something Geralt knew was a lie and Jaskier knew Geralt knew it was a lie.

Yennefer, Triss, Vesemir, Eskel and even Lambert had tried to talk to Jaskier. But they’d barely managed a few minutes phone call before Jaskier had shaken them off, saying he needed to get back to work. They were all worried. Scared even because this wasn’t like Jaskier. Jaskier never avoided them. Was never quiet or subdued. And that was exactly what he had been for the last 2 months.

Except now Geralt could feel anger bubbling with that worry and concern. Jaskier should have told him he was going away for 3 months. 3 months where Geralt wouldn’t see and probably wouldn’t even hear from Jaskier. And instead of telling Geralt so he could prepare for it. Prepare Ciri for it because 3 months of not seeing Jaskier was going to hurt his little daughter no matter how brave Ciri pretended to be when Jaskier was away Geralt knew it always hurt her to not see Jaskier.

And Jaskier had been avoiding Ciri to. That small fact angered Geralt more than anything. Jaskier knew how much Ciri adored him and he was making no effort to be home to see Ciri even once a week. Ciri hadn’t seen Jaskier in 4 days, Jaskier always coming home to late and leaving too early for his daughter to see him. And the hurt look on her face when she came down to breakfast to find Jaskier was gone or went to bed and Jaskier hadn’t come home yet was like a punch to Geralt’s stomach every fucking time. So he was angry. He was fucking angry.

Flicking on his phone, Geralt switched on the news, scrolling through pages with barely any interest. It was nearly 1am now and Jaskier still hadn’t come home. Geralt’s finger paused over the top of one picture. It was an image of Jaskier. His Jaskier. In a club. Taken not 3 hours ago. He was leaning against another man, face covered except for the bright blue eyes. The man was completely in darkness but his arm was obviously wrapped around Jaskier’s shoulders, Jaskier pressed tightly to the man’s side. Geralt felt his heart break as he saw the bright blue eyes of Jaskier. The picture was grainy, obviously taken from far away but it was obviously Jaskier. Geralt would recognise those blue eyes anywhere.

Geralt flicked through the tiny article, basically the article’s writer questioning if Jaskier had gotten himself a boyfriend. The media knew Jaskier was bi, he had confirmed that fact about himself at the beginning of his career. Geralt felt his heart break as anger wrapped around him. This was why Jaskier was avoiding them. It had to be.

When Jaskier’s car finally pulled into the drive at gone 2am that morning, the anger in Geralt’s chest had bubbled so far the man was pacing the living room, eyes blazing. The sound of Jaskier’s car pulling in and then the sound of him gently fumbling the keys into the door had Geralt’s heart pounding.

Jaskier walked into their house, the heavy stink of alcohol wrapped around him. Geralt didn’t think Jaskier had drunk much, if any, because he obviously driven home but the smell was still there. Probably from that man that had been all over Jaskier, Geralt thought angrily. “Geralt?” Jaskier looked surprised to find Geralt standing in the living room.

As he walked further into the light, Geralt saw Jaskier’s hands were shaking softly, eyes bright red from crying. The clothes he had been wearing that morning where crumpled. “Where the fuck have you been?” Geralt growled. He was prepared to give Jaskier one chance. One fucking chance to tell the fucking truth for the first time in 2 fucking months.

“Work.” Jaskier said. Geralt didn’t hear the hitch in Jaskier’s breath as the musician settled his bag onto the floor. “Geralt, what’s wrong?”

“This.” Geralt growled, shoving his phone containing the picture evidence of Jaskier with another man into Jaskier’s hand. “What the fuck Jask?” Geralt asked, anger blazing through him as Jaskier’s shaking hand took the phone.

Jaskier turned pale as he looked at the picture, nearly dropping the phone to the floor. “It’s not what it looks like.” Jaskier said, eyes desperately searching Geralt’s.

“Then what the fuck is it?” Geralt growled. Jaskier shook his head, tears dripping from his eyes which made Geralt’s anger flare. “You fucking bastard. I loved you. I fucking loved you and you did this. What do you think Ciri will think.” Geralt growled. “What do you think my whole fucking family is going to think because they’ll all see it.” Geralt was pacing forwards, backing Jaskier up towards the wall. Jaskier was shaking now, crying silently as his blue eyes looked into Geralt’s amber ones.

“Geralt, I didn’t cheat on you. I would never.” Jaskier tried but Geralt was beyond listening.

“You think because your this fucking famous musician you can treat us all like shit. That you can do this to me.” Geralt growled. “You think this is fair for me to find out your leaving us for 3 fucking months from the internet.”

“I was going to tell you.” Jaskier tried against, whimpering when Geralt’s closeness pushed him further back against the wall. Geralt growled, fists clenched at his side before turning on his heel.

“It was bad enough that you’ve been avoiding us for the last 2 months. It’s bad enough that you’ve hurt Ciri doing that and I swore that I wouldn’t let anyone hurt her and I let you. I let you swan into our fucking lives and let you hurt Ciri by avoiding her.” Jaskier choked on a sob. Geralt could feel the anger evaporating from him now, reserved resignation filling through him as he turned back to facing Jaskier. “You need to leave.”

“Geralt, please.” Jaskier’s voice was quiet, pain filled as he sobbed brokenly.

“Leave. I don’t want you here.” Geralt growled. Jaskier was still for a moment before slowly picking his bag and keys up.

He sent one last look at Geralt before closing the door behind him, blue eyes shining in pain as he said, “Geralt, I’m sorry.”

Geralt said nothing, turning away from Jaskier. He heard the door close. Heard Jaskier’s car start. Heard Jaskier’s car start down the driveway and away from their home. And then he finally let himself cry for his broken heart.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mentions of past sexual unwanted advances and touches

Jaskier pulled his car over in the car park he had stumbled across before his first meeting with Geralt. Tears where pouring down his face and when he finally turned the engine off, Jaskier let the sobs come unfought. They shook through his body as Jaskier pulled his legs up onto the seat, hugging himself close as he sobbed. 

Geralt’s eyes had been so full of hurt. Of pain and hurt that Jaskier had caused through his lying. It would have been so easy to tell Geralt the truth months ago. Stop all of this from happening. It would have been so easy to tell Geralt the truth now. That the man in the picture was Marx, that Marx had forced Jaskier to be that close. Forced his kisses and ouches onto Jaskier’s body. Jaskier sobbed harder at the remembrance of Marx’s hand squeezing his cock, the threat of what he was willing to do to Jaskier overwhelming.

And now the one comfort Jaskier had in the world was gone. Geralt. His family. All of them. Jaskier had lost every single fucking one of them because he had to lie. He had had to lie to protect them from Marx destroying their lives. How easy would it be to fix this mess. To drive back to the house. To tell Geralt everything that Marx had done, made Jaskier do. But Jaskier couldn’t because telling Geralt would only make it worse. Geralt wouldn’t be able to take the knowledge of what Marx had done sitting down. He would want to do something. Would want to confront Marx. And if he did that then Marx would tell the world about Geralt. Make it look like Geralt was the bad guy, that he deserved to be locked away. Deserved to have Ciri taken away from him.

Jaskier sobbed harder. It hurt. It hurt so fucking much. And at the same time it was for the best. This way might be harder for Jaskier but it would give Geralt and Ciri a chance to find happiness. Happiness away from Jaskier. Happiness where Jaskier wasn’t there to worry about, worry if he was ok, worry if he was coming home that day. As much as it killed Jaskier, it was better for his family if Jaskier wasn’t their family anymore. They could move on with their lives and Jaskier could protect them without hurting them.

……

Jaskier must have fell asleep at some point in the car as he woke to sun blaring through the car windows. He blinked blearily at the sight, mind taking a few moments to understand why he was here rather than lying in bed wrapped in Geralt’s arms. And then Jaskier cried again, pain lacing through his heart at the knowledge the he would never be wrapped in those big strong arms again.

When he finally had himself under control he glanced at the car clock. 9am. He was meant to be at the label by 10. But Jaskier couldn’t face it. He was still in yesterday’s clothes. Could still feel Marx’s hands travelling over him. He needed a wash. He needed his clothes. Clothes he couldn’t have without going back to Geralt’s home. Jaskier sniffled, fighting back the oncoming tears.

It was Sunday. Geralt would be going to Vesemir’s at 12. Jaskier could wait until after then to go home and collect his belongings. Take them away so Geralt wouldn’t have to see his face. It was the fairest way to do it.

Jaskier pulled out his phone, debating how to tell Marx that he wouldn’t be at the label today. Coward that he was, he settled for a quick text and then turned his phone off. He couldn’t face Marx today. Not after everything that happened last night. He needed time. Time to sort himself out. To get his emotions in check. 

He had no idea what he was going to do but it didn’t really matter. Jaskier didn’t care anymore. Not when he had lost everything in the span of one night. Jaskier climbed out of the car, walking down the familiar path towards the lake. It was a beautiful day, chilly but beautiful. The sun shone down on the lake, sparkling shads of blue as Jaskier sat himself down on the bench he had first met Geralt. How easy would Geralt’s life had been if Jaskier had never sat here that day. Geralt could have met someone who wouldn’t hurt him the way Jaskier did. Someone he could show off to the world without fear of being bombarded by the paparazzi. Jaskier had ruined 5 years of Geralt’s life. The best thing he could do was to make sure he didn’t ruin it any further.

…….

“Where’s Jaskier?” Yennefer asked, eyes narrowing as she took in Geralt standing forlornly at the door. 

“Daddy?” Ciri asked, running up to the bigger man and throwing her arms around his legs. Geralt knelt down, letting his daughter wrap small arms around his neck. She hadn’t called him Daddy since she was 7, saying she was too big to call him that anymore. “What’s wrong?” Geralt just grunted, letting his head fall into the curly blonde hair of his daughter.

He hadn’t slept all night, mind playing through everything over and over again. Jaskier had gone. He had kicked Jaskier out. And Jaskier had barely fought back. He’d just accepted Geralt’s anger, head bowed and pain filled expression on his face. And it hurt. Geralt didn’t want to lose Jaskier. He was Geralt’s family. He loved Jaskier. But love in the end didn’t matter because Jaskeir was gone.

“Ciri, sweetheart. Why don’t you go and help Triss in the kitchen.” Yennefer said, dropping down to her knees and taking Ciri’s hand.

“But…” Ciri started but Triss took Ciri’s hand leading her into the kitchen.

“Don’t worry. They’ve got this sorted and I need my little helper.” Triss said, glancing over her shoulder and fixing Yennefer with a look that clearly said she wanted an explanation the first chance Yennefer got.

Yennefer took Geralt’s arm, dragging the white-haired man into a seat. Geralt followed quietly, heart feeling as if it was broken in a million different shards. “Son?” Vesemir had moved to sit next to Geralt, concerned frown on his face. “What happened?”

“Jask…” Geralt trailed off, not knowing how best to explain it. Instead he took the phone from his pocket, still stuck on the image of Jaskier pressed against this unknown man’s side. He passed it to Vesemir who frowned, passing it then to Eskel, Lambert and Yenenfer.

“What the hell is this?” lambert growled, anger rolling off him as Geralt’s younger brother pressed a comforting hand on Geralt’s shoulder.

“Jask, he didn’t deny it.” Geralt grumbled. He’d gone past anger now, the sorrow and pain having overtaken him instead. “I asked him to leave. Fuck.” Geralt swore, dropping his head in his hands. The best thing in his life besides Ciri and Geralt had asked him to leave. How was Ciri going to take this, she loved Jaskier. “He’s gone.”

“I’m sorry.” Eskel said, dropping a hand onto Geralt’s other shoulder.

“Fucking hell. I didn’t think Jaskier would…shit Geralt.” Lambert growled, eyes narrowing into angry slants. “I’ll kick his fucking arse for you if you want.” Geralt just shook his head. Jaskier was in enough pain as it was if the look in his eyes was anything to go by.

“Geralt, you’re sure Jaskier was cheating on you.” And Yennefer was the last person Geralt ever expected defend Jaskier for cheating.

“Look at the fucking picture, Yenn. Does that look like they’re anything but fuckbuddy’s.” Lambert growled, shoving Geralt’s phone into Yennefer’s hand. Yennefer’ frowned, violet eyes swirling as she looked at the picture intently.

“I think this looks like that man is all over Jaskier and Jaskier is just sitting there and taking it.” Yennefer responded. “Jaskier loves Geralt and I don’t believe he would ever hurt Geralt intentionally.”

“So he didn’t think anyone would ever know.” Eskel responded.

Yennefer shook her head. “No, Jaskier knows the paparazzi follow him around. It’s why he always refused to go to public places with Geralt because he knew Geralt didn’t want to be in magazines.” Yennefer retorted, passing the phone over to Vesemir when the older man motioned to see it.

Geralt watched a frown cross Vesemir’s features. “Jaskier’s been acting odd for a while now.” Vesemir stated and Eskel and Lambert both grunted. “He’s been quiet, reserved. Avoiding us. And he had a bruise on his face that he wouldn’t talk about and said was caused by an accident. Something we all knew was a lie.”

“You think…” Eskel trailed off, amber eyes flashing and Geralt felt his heart break even further.

“Who the fuck even is this? The pictures’ to dark to see.” Lambert growled, grabbing the phone again and scrutinising the picture.

Geralt ignored Lambert, instead turning desperate eyes to Vesemir. “You think this man hurt Jaskier?” Geralt asked, ignoring the way his voice broke at the words, pain filling his chest at the thought of anyone touching his Jaskier.

“I think it’s a possibility.” Vesemir answered.

“But why wouldn’t he tell anyone?” Eskel asked, hand squeezing Geralt’s shoulder in comfort.

“This man, whoever he is, obviously has something on Jaskier.” Yennefer continued, eyes narrowing in concern as she looked at Geralt. Geralt was just shaking his head, head resting in his hands as his shoulders shook. He had been so angry. So fucking angry. And all this time. Jaskier wasn’t cheating on Geralt. He was being hurt by some piece of shit human being. God knows what else this man had been doing to Jaskier besides the one bruise Geralt had seen. 

“I need to find Jaskier.” Geralt managed, taking the phone from Lambert and dialling Jaskier’s number. It went straight to voicemail. “Shit.” Geralt ran a hand threw his hair, panic overtaking him. He had to apologise. He had to make sure Jaskier was ok.

“Did he take any of his things?” Yennefer asked. Geralt shook his head, mind whirling over this new information. About how stupid he’d been. “He might have gone back to the house. He knew you’d be here all afternoon.” 

Geralt grabbed his keys from his pockets, hands shaking so much he dropped them. “I’ll drive.” Eskel growled, taking the keys from Geralt’s hand.

Geralt just nodded, pausing once at doorway to give Vesemir an apologetic look. “It’s fine. You go find Jaskier and make sure he’d ok.” Vesemir offered an encouraging smile and Geralt nodded.

Lambert and Eskel followed him to the car, Eskel jumping into the driving seat as Lambert climbed into the back. Geralt could feel his hands shaking the whole journey. What if Jaskier didn’t want to listen to Geralt. Geralt had seen the hurt and pained look on Jaskier’s face. Thinking back now, the pain on Jaskier’s face had been there before Geralt had even said anything. How stupid could he be. It was so obvious now that Jaskier had been upset. Upset about something, something that man must have done to him. And Geralt had pushed him away. Hadn’t even given Jaskier a chance to explain before kicking him out.

Geralt didn’t even wait for Eskel to turn the engine off before he was jumping out of the car. “Jaskier!” Geralt shouted as he entered the house, hoping beyond hope that Jaskier would answer.

Instead the house remained silent. Geralt ran upstairs, hoping Jaskier was there and just keeping quiet. When he entered his bedroom though he felt his knees give out as he slumped onto the bed. Jaskier’s guitar which was always so lovingly placed on it’s stand at the corner of their bedroom was gone. The few notebook and pen Jaskier had placed on his side of the bed was also gone. Geralt didn’t have to open the wardrobe to know he’d find Jaskier’s clothing gone as well.

Geralt felt his heart break into tiny pieces as he realised the horrible truth. Jaskier was gone. He’d lost him.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took a little longer than planned but I got side tracked and haven’t had chance to write this. I hope you all enjoy.

Jaskier didn’t take much from his and Geralt’s home, or rather Geralt’s home now Jaskier thought with a heavy heart. His guitar and clothes, his composition books and a large blanket Ciri had bought him for his birthday a few years ago. That was it. It was a bit pathetic really, jaskier thought as he carted the heavy suitcase from his car into the hotel he’d booked. 5 years and all Jaskier really had to show for it was a few clothes, a blanket a blanket and his guitar.

He had other belongings at Geralt’s home. Books, DVD’s, ornaments that sat in his and Geralt’s shared space but he hadn’t taken them. He hadn’t even been able to bring himself to empty his favourite mug from the kitchen cupboard. Everything in the house reminded him of Geralt and Ciri. Of the family he had lost. It was too painful to take but the main necessities from the house. And it wasn’t like Jaskier was lacking for money. Geralt could keep it all. Jaskier couldn’t bare the thought of being reminded of the love of his life every time he used a mug Geralt had bought him on their first valentine.

And the thought of Geralt’s nervousness as he presented Jaskier with a mug decorated and huge teddy bear (which Ciri had promptly stolen when Jaskier had moved in with them) brought tears to Jaskier’s eyes. He pushed them away stubbornly, he’d spent all of last night crying and he knew his eyes were blotchy. He could at least wait until he got into the privacy of the hotel room before he started again.

Jaskier gained a few curious looks as he paid at the reception desk for the room. A standing order as Jaskier had no idea when he would be able to face getting a new home. A new home which Geralt and Ciri wouldn’t be a part of. Not much of a home really. Jaskier fought back the lump in his throat as he saw a person in the lobby whispering to her friend and asking if that really was Jaskier. Jaskier just ducked his head, shouldering his guitar case and pulling his suitcase towards the lift. Just a little further and he could cry. Just a little further.

The hotel was nice, homely. Not as expensive as Jaskier was used to when he went away for work but he liked the smaller B&B’s better. They had a character to them that the large chain hotels just didn’t. Jaskier pulled the hotel key out with shaking hands. The door clicked opens dn Jaskier pulled the suitcase in, locking the door after him. He slid the bolt across and felt the tears start to fall down his cheek.

Not even bothering to unpack, Jaskier threw his coat over a dark green armchair in the corner and collapsed onto the bed. Sobs racked through him as he curled around the cushion on the bed. Geralt had left him. Jaskier knew it was always a matter of time. That eventually Geralt would realised that he was better than Jaskier. Deserved better than a boyfriend who he couldn’t even take out to fucking dinner without being mobbed by cameras. But it still hurt.

It was Sunday. He should be at Vesemir’s helping Triss make dinner. But Jaskier couldn’t go there. Not now he and Geralt had broken up. They were Geralt’s family, not Jaskier’s. And that thought just made Jaskier sob harder. He had no one. Geralt and his family where the only people in Jaskier’s life that cared about him, regardless of the fame and the money. They were his family.

And Marx had destroyed that. Remembering Marx’s lips forcing themselves onto Jaskier’s own lips, Geralt’s betrayed look as he showed Jaskier a picture of him and Marx in that club. Marx pressed close to Jaskier. Jaskier felt despair run deep through him. He was alone in the room. Alone with Marx. A man who could force Jaskier to do anything he wanted to. A man that had already destroyed every meaningful relationship in Jaskier’s life. And there was nothing Jaskier could do about it.

........

Jaskier arrived at the rehearsal studio Monday morning late and feeling terrible. He had fallen asleep crying into the pillow, forgetting to set his alarm on his phone or even turning his phone on since Geralt had broken up with him. Meaning, when he finally woke up, for once feeling no better than he had when he fell asleep it was nearly 10 in the morning. He had meant to be at the studio by 9. That coupled with the fact Jaskier hadn’t gone to the studio as Marx has told him to Sunday, Jaskier was panicking.

“Where the fuck where you?” Marx growled as Jaskier walked into the rehearsal studio where they were supposed to be going over the set list for the upcoming tour.

“I’m sorry, I slept in.” Jaskier said. After everything that had happened over the weekend, he couldn’t bring himself to be scared of the way Marx’s face twisted. His hand clenched into a fist at his side but that’s were it stayed as Katie (one of the tour producers) walked into the hallway.

“Thank God. We were getting worried.” She said, offering Jaskier a smile which he tried to return but he knew it didn’t reach his eyes.

As Katie turned around, Marx grabbed Jaskier’s arm. Jaskier flinched at the grip, trying to dislodge Marx’s grip but being unable to. “What the fuck where you thinking?” Marx growled, voice low so as not to be heard.

“I’m sorry.” Jaskier repeated. “I forgot to set my alarm and I slept in.” Jaskier was more surprised Marx hadn’t mentioned about his no show on Sunday but he supposed it was coming. Either that or Marx hadn’t even remembered what he’d said. He had drank a lot more than Jaskier that night. A small glimmer of hope glimpsed in Jaskier’s mind. If Marx didn’t remember that he had told Jaskier to go to the studio Sunday, maybe he didn’t remember the kissing and groping he had been doing.

“Drop the fucking diva attitude Jaskier.” Marx growled and Jaskier wanted to argue that he didn’t have a diva attitude. “Any more of it and your boyfriend will be front page news tomorrow.” And it didn’t matter that Geralt wasn’t technically Jaskier’s boyfriend anymore because Jaskier couldn’t let that happen. Couldn’t let Marx twist the truth into a story that would land Geralt in prison, may even lose him Ciri, so he shut down the retort he so desperately wanted to give.

“Now move it, we’ve wasted enough time for you songbird.” Marx growled, tugging Jaskier’s arm towards the room Katie had disappeared into.

It really was amazing, Jaskier thought watching as Marx talked with the tour producers, finalising the playlist. Jaskier wasn’t best pleased with the playlist but his protests had been cut down by Marx saying the fans would appreciate this more, and a sharp kick under the table from Marx sat next to him. Jaskier had never seen anyone change from cruel and manipulating to easygoing and seemingly friendly so quickly. Marx played the room like Jaskier played a arena full of people. The producers where eating out of his hand, nodding and smiling and laughing at all the right moments. Even while he did this, he kept a tight grip on Jaskier’s leg under the table, squeezing harshly whenever Jaskier opened his mouth to say something. A gentle reminder that Jaskier couldn’t argue with Marx. Not if he wanted Geralt to remain out of the press.

Jaskier knew if he told the truth no one would believe him. How could they? Marx Seemed like such a kind and genuine person. Isn’t that what Jaskier had thought of him when they’d first met, after all. No one would believe Jaskier if he told the truth. Marx would spin it, say Jaskier was overreacting, rolling his eyes in the condescending way. And they he would remind Jaskier that he could destroy the man Jaskier loved. It hurt to know Jaskier had no power in this situation. He was completely at the mercy of this man.

........

When they had finished discussing the set list, Jaskier had been pushed into the music studio to start going through a few warm ups. He had always loved the studio. To be able to sing and play his guitar, it allowed him a certain even of peace and clarity. Like the outside world didn’t matter, all that mattered was the music.

Today was different though. Most of Jaskier’s most popular songs had been written for Geralt or about his white haired lover. None of the fans knew the deeper meaning to some of those lyrics, but Jaskier did. They spoke of love and happiness and familiarity. None more so than the songs he had written for his new album, dedicated to his family. His old family. Now the songs left a bitter taste in Jaskier’s mouth, emotion clogging him as his heart broken all over again remembering what he had had. What he had lost. What Marx had taken from him.

When Jaskier finally finished, he was exhausted. He just wanted to go back to his shitty hotel room and bury himself in the blanket Ciri had bought him and cry. It perhaps wasn’t the most productive thing Jaskier could do with his time, after all he still needed to look into a new flat. But the thought of moving into a new home without Geralt and Ciri made Jaskier’s throat clench with emotion. it would be too empty and big without them there. Without the chaos of School mornings when Ciri announced last minute that she had forgotten that a particular project was due today. Or that the day before world book day when she had cheerfully said she had to dress up. Jaskier chuckled softly at the memory, remembering their frantic search for a suitable costume. He’d never get that again. And that thought sobered him up instantly.

“That’s my phone.” Jaskier said, anger pushing through him when he saw Marx leaning against the corridor wall, holding his Jaskier’s in his hands.

“It is.” Marx smiled, turning it off and placing it into Jaskier’s jacket pocket, which he had obviously taken it out of. “I just wanted to check your alarms were actually working. Wouldn’t want you to be late again now would we.” Marx sneered when Jaskier drew closer.

Jaskier just stared at Marx in disbelief. Wasn’t it bad enough this man was the cause of Jaskier losing Geralt, now he was looking through his personal phone. “I could have done that.”

“But that’s what I;m here for songbird. To make life easier.” Marx smiled, grabbing Jaskier’s coat before Jaskier could take it from the hook. 

“Ruin it you mean.” Jaskier retorted, unable to bite the anger back. Marx’s smile dropped from his face. His eyes glanced around the room, noting it was suitably clear, before he backhanded Jaskier across the face. Jaskier gasped, tears stinging in his eyes as he held a hand to his cheek. 

“I told you songbird, I won’t accept your diva attitude anymore.” Marx said, voice cherry as he shoved Jaskier’s coat into Jaskier’s trembling hands. “Now get the fuck out of my site and if your late tomorrow I’ll have Geralt’s face plastered all over twitter.” Marx growled close to Jaskier’s ear. He patted Jaskier’s cheek, the one he had just slapped before turning around and leaving Jaskier standing in the corridor.

Jaskier just watched him go, panic running through him. He held his hand over his stinging cheek, willing the tears to go before he had to face the outside world. Jaskier’s could feel panic clawing through him at the thought of what Marx had just done. Jaskier could get him arrested. Could tell someone, get him fired. It would make Jaskier’s life so much easier. But if he did that it would ruin Geralt. Even if the police believed Jaskier that Geralt had never would never hit him, it didn’t matter. The whole world would know who Geralt was and Jaskier knew that the press didn’t care about the truth. Geralt would be persecuted by the public regardless.

With that sobering thought, Jaskier felt his resolve tighten. He loved Geralt. It didn’t matter that he would never see the man he loved again. Jaskier would do the only thing he could do to protect him and Ciri. To protect his family. Even if that meant Jaskier had to deal with Marx, he would. For Geralt, he would do anything.

......

A buzz from his phone had Geralt scrambling to pull it out. He’d just finished settling Ciri down after tea. His daughter had been inconsolable when she’d returned home after her weekend to find Jaskier gone. She hadn’t understood why and hadn’t accepted what Geralt had told her, that he and Jaskier had broken up.

“But you’re the best couple in the world.” Ciri argued, emerald eyes large and filled with tears. “You love each other you can’t break up.”

“It’s more complicated than that.” Geralt had sighed, feeling guilt prick at him. This was his fault. He had gone and accused Jaskier, refusing to let Jaskier even explain himself before kicking him out. Of course now Jaskier wouldn’t want to hear from Geralt. Shit, what must Jaskier be thinking. Where was he even staying. He’d barely taken anything but his clothes and guitar and Geralt felt guilt well up in him. Most of the things in their home, minus essentials which Geralt had installed when he first bought the small cottage, were Jaskier’s. He had been the one to buy the paintings that now decorated the walls of their living room, deeming the room needed colour when he had moved in. He had been the one to replace the sofa and armchairs 2 years ago when the ones’ Geralt had bought when he first moved in started to look old and tatty. Jaskier had insisted he pay, saying he had the money and didn’t mind. Everything Geralt looked at had Jaskier’s stamp on it and it hurt. 

“But you love him.” Ciri has argued.

“Yes. I do.” Geralt had replied, not wanting to lie to his daughter. They hadn’t told her about what they had realised on Sunday. That someone had hurt Jaskier, that man in the picture who Geralt had so carelessly accused Jaskier of cheating on him with had hurt Jaskier. The more Geralt thought about it the more certain he became. It explained Jaskier’s behaviour ever since he came back from LA. Why he was so reserved, quiet. The bruise. Everything.

“Then why can’t you be together?” Ciri cried and Geralt found himself wrapping his daughter in his arms.

“It’s complicated right now. Jaskier needs time.” Geralt knew Jaskier must be hurting. They were his family and Geralt had so carelessly flung him aside without even getting Jaskier’s side of the story first.

“I want him to come home.” Ciri sobbed and Geralt felt tears burning his own amber eyes.

“I do to cub. I do to.” Ciri had cried into Geralt’s arms for a little while after that before Geralt had managed to persuade her into eating something. She had been quiet ever since, not speaking a word as she silently ate the pizza in front of the TV. Usually Geralt would want them to eat at the table together, as a family. But with Jaskier gone, Geralt knew Ciri felt the same way that he did. That they couldn’t sit as a family because part of their family wasn’t there. So Geralt let her sit with the TV this once.

Geralt pulled out his phone, feeling his heart in his mouth as he saw the text was from Jaskier. Geralt felt hope run through him as he opened the text. Maybe Jaskier had decided to forgive Geralt. Maybe he wanted to come home. At the very least, maybe Jaskier wanted to see Ciri and Geralt would allow it in a flash because he knew how much Ciri loved Jaskier.

Except as Geralt opened the text, he felt all the hope come crashing down as he read the words:  
...Please don’t contact me again. It’s over. We’re through...


	13. Chapter 13

The last 4 months had been some of the hardest Geralt had ever had to deal with. Ever since his text from Jaskier asking him not to contact him, Geralt had heard nothing from the musician. He had tried calling that night when Ciri had gone to bed but the message that had come through was to tell him his number had been blocked.

Yennefer, Triss, Vesemir, Eskel and even Lambert had tried to phone Jaskier and their numbers had also been blocked. When Ciri had texted Jaskier the next morning before school, unbeknownst to Geralt, she had burst into tears when the text hadn’t gone through. That had angered Geralt more than anything, that Jaskier had blocked Ciri’s number. Ciri who saw Jaskier as a second Father, who loved Jaskier as much as she loved Geralt and Yennefer. Geralt had allowed a sick day from school that day, not wanting to send her into school after all this. They’d spent the day watching Disney movies, that Jaskier had always loved and sang along to much to Geralt’s delight and Geralt’s horror, eating ice cream and pizza.

Geralt had never felt heartache like this. His and Yennefer’s split had been mutual and beneficial to them both and Geralt had never had another serious relationship. Except Jaskier. Jaskier who he had loved more than anything in the whole fucking world (except Ciri). Jaskier who had broken Geralt’s heart and Ciri’s. Fuck, Jaskier who had broken their whole families heart.

But as much as Geralt wanted to be angry, he couldn’t be. If anything he was just worried. They all were. They all knew Jaskier and they knew that even if Jaskier and Geralt broke up Jaskier would never ever hurt Ciri. He would never cut off ties with Ciri. Except he had. Which had sent them all into panic. That week, Ciri at school and Yennefer on one of her rare days off during the week at the law firm, had met at Vesemir’s house.

“How’s Ciri?” Eskel’s first words when Geralt walked in to fin his whole family sitting at the dining room table.

“Distraught.” Geralt grunted and he saw the anger spark in Yennefer’s eyes.

“I just don’t understand it.” Triss’ voice was full of hurt. “Jaskier would never do this. He’s not callous or cruel. He loved Ciri. Of all people, he would never ghost her like this.” 

“They what the fuck is going on.” Lambert growled. 

“It’s got have something to do with that bruise.” Eskel replied.

“And that bastard who was all over them the other night.” Lambert added.

“This is my fault.” Geralt said, dropping his head into his hands. If he hadn’t kicked Jaskier out that night then none of this would be happening. He’d still have Jaskier safe in his arms. They could help him. Sort whatever this problem was.

“It’s not Geralt.” Yennefer sighed, gently rubbing Geralt’s arm. 

“What the fuck does this guy have on him?” Lambert raved. “Jaskier wouldn’t just do this.”

“Is there anyone else Jaskier might have confided in?” Yennefer said, voice filled with concern as she looked at Geralt.

Geralt just shook his head. Jaskier only had them. He wasn’t close to his family, most of his friends outside of Geralt’s family were only interested in Jaskier because of the fame and the money. Without them. Shit, Geralt didn’t want to even think about Jaskier facing this all alone with no one. Except...”Priscilla. His old manager. She’s the only other person who Jaskier was close to outside of us.”

“Then talk to her. See if she knows anything about this.” Yennefer said and Geralt resolved to do exactly that.

......

It took Geralt a few weeks before he could finally get through to Priscilla. Apparently she had moved up to Scotland and her old phone number had been disconnected. It had taken Yennefer threatening the phone company if they didn’t tell her what Pricilla’s new number was. She’d gotten it with a angry, “This better be fucking worth it Geralt. Those bastards want me to cover one of their fucking cases in exchange for this number. As if I didn’t have enough work to do.” Geralt wanted to point out that it wasn’t his fault Yennefer was both terrifying and good at her job. But he knew when to step back from Yennefer’s simmering temper and this was definitely one of those times.

“Hi Priscilla, it’s Geralt. How’s the pregnancy?” Geralt said when the phone rang and Jaskier’s old manager picked up. 

“Hi Geralt, it’s going great thanks. And thank you for the flowers you and Jaskier sent.” Jaskier had told Geralt he’d sent Priscilla flowers and had signed Geralt’s name on it but Geralt didn’t have a clue what they were like. “How are you? How’s Jaskier?” Priscilla’s bright voice flowed over the phone. “I’ve seen some of the press Jaskier’s been doing and I want to know what idiot manager the label put him with. Whoever it is obviously has no idea about time management. I swear half the stuff they’re making Jaskier do isn’t even worth it. Tell him if he wants a new manager I know a few people who’d be great.”

“I just wanted to talk to you about Jaskier.” Geralt sighed. He didn’t know if Priscilla would even care. The handful of times he had met her she had always seemed nice and friendly. And she always took care of Jaskier when she was his manager. Made sure he had time to spend with Geralt and Ciri. “He’s...I’m not sure how to explain it.” Geralt sighed. “Did you see the picture. Of Jaskier and that man in the club.”

Priscilla groaned over the phone. “I did and I was meaning to ring Jaskier and check up but I couldn’t get through on his phone. Guess he checked it.” Geralt felt his heart clench at the knowledge that Jaskier had blocked Priscilla’s number as well as theirs. “Jaskier’s always to giving with his fans. I kept telling him he needs to be a bit harsher. Stop letting them demand things from him.”

“You think that was a fan?” Geralt asked. He didn’t really know much about Jaskier’s fan base but he knew some of them were eager. Jaskier always did he owed his career to his fans but Geralt couldn’t understand the way some of those fans (some only teenage girls) stalked Jaksier’s every moment. He’d seen some of the posts on Jaskier’s fan pages (looked at them more out of curiosity than anything else when he had first learnt Jaskier was famous) and he had been a little terrified.

“Of course it was.” Priscilla sighed. “Though I’ve never seen one quite so persistent before.”

“I think whoever that was hurt Jaskier.” Geralt replied. “Jaskier came back with a bruise on his face but he wouldn’t tell me where he got it from. I just wanted to know if you knew anything.”

“Is Jaskier ok?” Priscilla asked, voice filled with concern. “Can I talk to him?”

“No, we broke up.” Geralt sighed, guilt welling up at him. Priscilla had seen that Jaskier hadn’t been cheating on Geralt with that man instantly and yet Geralt had immediately jumped to conclusions and blamed Jaskier. Broken their family apart. 

“I’m so sorry Geralt.” Priscilla said. “Look, I can ask his new manager about this. He’ll probably know more than I do.”

“Thanks Priscilla. I just...I need to know he’s ok.” Geralt said.

“Don’t worry Geralt. It’s Jaskier. He’s a lot stronger than he looks.” Pricilla said. As they said their goodbyes, Geralt hoped Priscilla was right.

.......

Jaskier was exhausted. His previous tours had never involved this much prep and Jaskier knew it was Marx’s way of punishing Jaskier for some imaginary slight. Most of the time it would just be Jaskier and Marx in the studio. Marx watching Jaskier with a smirk on his face as Jaskier ran through the set list and costume changes.

Marx had only gotten worse the last 4 months. He would touch Jaskier constantly. Alternating between firm squeezing hard grips and soft lingering touches. Jaskier’s arms where littered with bruises and he had taken to wearing long sleeves. The stylists had asked Jaskier a few times where the bruises where coming from but Jaskier had shoved them off, lying and saying he just clumsy. Marx watched him every time.

Jaskier hadn’t moved from the hotel yet, not able to get past the thought of living in any sort of home without Geralt and Ciri. The loneliness clawed through him at night, leaving Jaskier crying himself to sleep over his broken heart. He hadn’t had one text or call from Geralt or any of his (old) family. Even Ciri hadn’t texted or called. And it broken Jaskier’s fragile heart in two. What must they think of him? They must hate him for breaking Geralt’s heart. They would all have seen that picture, seen evidence that Jaskier had cheated on Geralt. It didn’t matter that it was a lie because Jaksier knew what it looked like. He’d seen the hurt in Geralt’s eyes firsthand.

“It’s your own fault songbird.” Marx said as Jaskier sat at the table in Marx’s office at the label. Jaskier opened his mouth to snap something back about this being all Marx’s fault but Marx just held up a hand, waving him off. “If you hadn’t overdone yourself in rehearsals you wouldn’t be on throat rest until the tour starts. We can’t have you straining your vocal chords after all. They pay all our pay checks.” It didn’t matter to Marx that Jaskier had told him this was what would happen weeks ago when Marx forced him into constant rehearsals. The tour was only a month away and Jaskier’s throat was already wrecked. Complete vocal silence until the tour his Doctor had said. He had also said that Jaskier probably shouldn’t even do that. He was overdoing himself, Jaskier knew that. The exhaustion was clear on his face and Jaskier was barely with it most days. But Marx would never let Jaskier take a break because of a simple thing like tiredness. Shit, Jaskier didn’t think Marx would even accept Jaskier taking a break because he was hit by a bus without threatening to leak Geralt to the media.

The blind was down in the office so no one could see in when Marx walked to stand behind Jaskier. His hand drifted to Jaskier’s throat, trailing down the front of it causing Jaskier to flinch and shiver away. “Don’t worry songbird. We’ll get you all better.” Marx whispered, lips dropping to mouth at Jaskier’s throat. Jaskier tensed, feeling sick to his stomach. These last 4 months Marx had become bolder and bolder in his advances, hands trailing all over Jaskier. Forcing kisses onto Jaskier in dark corners. And Jaskier had stopped struggling. There was nothing he could do and when he finally accepted that fact the day after Geralt had left him, that Marx controlled his very life, then Jaskier just felt hollow. His life was still happening around him and he was participating but not consciously. His actions weren’t his own doing because everything he was doing wasn’t what Jaskier wanted. All he wanted was to run to Geralt and apologise and tell him every single thing but he couldn’t. Because he couldn’t risk Geralt being caught up in the media storm Marx would create. And to be honest. Jaskier was terrified.

Marx finished his soft kissing of Jaskier’s throat and returned to sit opposite Jaskier on his desk. “Now. I talked to the nutritionist and they were saying you should try this new protein diet. It might slim you up a bit more. Can’t have you spilling out of those ridiculously tight pants you love to wear.” Marx grinned.

Jaskier said nothing. He had lost weight. Between the diet Marx had put him on and the fact Jaskier was too exhausted and bone weary to even think of eating, the weight had dropped off him. Jaskier didn’t listen as Marx talked, knowing the man didn’t actually want Jaskier’s opinion. No. Why would he want that? After all, he was the one that decided what Jaskier’s fucking opinion even was.

.......

Geralt looked up in surprise when the man walked through the doors of the White Wolf bar. It was only 4 in the afternoon, the only people at the bar the usual alcoholics that were here like clockwork at opening. Triss wasn’t due in for another couple of hours so Geralt was working the bar alone.

The man came up to the bar and Geralt couldn’t help but hum in surprise. He wasn’t the usual clinical Geralt’s bar usually got. Sufficed to say most of Geralt’s customers where on the shady side. But this man was well dressed and his clothes were expensive by the look of them. He had a sneer fixed on his face as he looked at Geralt.

“I’m looking for Geralt Rivia.” The man said. His tone set Geralt’s teeth on edge as much as the sneer on his face.

“You found him.” Geralt grunted, rising to fulll height as he fixed the man with a glare.

“My name’s Valdo Marx. I’m Jaskier’s manager.” The man held out a hand for Geralt to shake which Geralt did, hesitantly. It was had been nearly 4 months since Priscilla had said she would try to talk to Jaskier’s manager and he hadn’t heard anything since. “I wanted to talk to you about a private matter.” Valdo said, glancing at the customers around them.

“Here’s fine.” Geralt grunted. Most of the regulars were already too drunk to care about the conversation anyway.

“I understand you know Jaskier in a personal way.” Valdo said, voice suggesting he was embarrassed but the sneer on his face never left. Geralt just grunted, ignoring the way his stomach flipped at the thought of Jaskier. “I’m here to tell you to leave him alone. If you continue with your harassing of him we will have to go to the police.”

“I’m not harassing him.” Geralt growled and Valdo smiled, all teeth as he answered.

“I’m afraid you are. Priscilla called the label, asking to speak to Jaskier. When I answered her she told me she was concerned about our songbird.” Geralt bristled at the name Marx used to describe Jaskier. “I took the liberty of asking why and she said that a friend was showing concern. Now I’ve only known Jaskier for a few months but we’ve grown close and he told me about you. How the break-up was especially messy and that you didn’t take it well.” Marx continued and Geralt could feel his anger building. This man was lying. For whatever reason he was lying. “This is causing Jaskier a great deal of stress and with the upcoming tour starting in a few days I need him with a level head you understand.” Marx said, all smiles as if Geralt did understand. He didn’t. This man was slowly getting him more and more angry the way he spoke, that sneer still fixed in place. “So I’m here to tell you to back away from him. He doesn’t need some lovesick fan out for his money.”

“I’m not there for his money.” Geralt growled. He loved Jaskier because he was Jaskier. Because he was the kindest, most annoying human being Geralt had ever met.

“Well, I’m sure you think that but between us both we all know this bar isn’t doing well.” Marx continued, sneering eyes now flashing across the bar. “I’m sure Jaskier would pay for some repairs if you asked him. probably pay to keep you in business. He’s to generous you see. To easily led which is why I have to look after him. Make sure no one hurts him.”

“I would never hurt him.” Geralt growled. He felt a sudden need to punch this man in front of him for even suggesting Geralt would use Jaskier for his money.

“I’m sure.” Marx smirked, eyes moving up and down Geralt with a sneer. “But the bruises speak for themselves. I’m aware you and he broke up a while ago. Jaskier never said why but I’m sure it had something to do with that bruise on his cheek. We would hate for that to get out wouldn’t we.” Geralt just stared at this man in astonishment. Marx took the silence for agreement as he smiled again. “Good. Now we’re agreed. I suggest you stay away from Jaskier. If you come near him again I will inform the police of the abuse. The only reason Jaskier never went to the police was because he didn’t want to hurt Ciri, your daughter. Like I said, a generous soul. One you’ve taken advantage of. It stops from now one.” Marx said before turning from the bar and leaving.

Geralt felt his fists clench by his sides as he watched Marx’s retreating figure. He wanted to punch this man. Beat the living hell out of him because the fact Marx knew about the bruise. The bruise that Jaskier had been so cagey about, proved a fact that had Geralt’s blood boiling. The only thing stopping him was the threat that Marx would go to the police. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t true and would probably get thrown out straight away because stuff like that stuck. Especially when it involved a famous singer.

And just like that Geralt finally understood. After 4 months wondering why Jaskier had abandoned them. Months of wondering where that bruise had gone and why Jaskier was so quiet and reserved. He finally had his answer.

Marx had hit Jaskier and Jaskier hadn’t told Geralt because he was afraid. He was afraid of what Marx might do if he told the truth, who he might blame. Jaskier had been trying to protect him. Geralt felt sick to his stomach as he thought of it all. He had seen the look in Marx’s eyes, and seen the way Marx talked about Jaskier. And all Geralt could feel was an overwhelming fear at the thought of what Marx could do to Jaskier. His Jaskier.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of rape and non con elements at the end of this chapter. Please do not read if you aren't comfortable with this.

The worst thing about everything Marx had done was the fact no one noticed. Not a single fucking person noticed the way Jaskier was slowly turning in on himself. The way he turned up to every hair and make-up appointment with heavy bags under his eyes. The way he had lost so much weight the costume department had had to let in his clothing for the upcoming tour again, just a few days before they flew out to America for the first lap. No one saw the dead look in Jaskier’s eyes or the way he didn’t talk anymore. No one said a damned word when the usually flamboyant and talkative singer just sat meekly in the corner with Marx doing all the talking, making all the decisions. Not even the fans noticed.

After the first show ended, Jaskier thought someone, anyone, would have noticed something was wrong. He expected to wake up the next day to twitter and Instagram going wild with how Jaskier had lost his touch. Except no one noticed. All the fans were convinced it was the best show, the band gave their congratulations saying Jaskier was as good as always. Even fucking Marx, who had been watching Jaskier’s every move for months now said he was excellent. A rare compliment that made Jaskier sick to his stomach.

The only person who seemed to think the show had gone terrible was Jaskier. Maybe it was because he didn’t really remember it. Usually these shows sent Jaskier into a massive high, like he was flying above the audience. It would take him most of the night and the next day to come down from that high, the knowledge that thousands of people were singing to his songs making him giddy. Not this time. This time Jaskier had sang the songs, done the choreography as planned, read the pre-written script Marx had given him throughout the show; and he’d done it all with an empty feeling inside of him. The movements and words had come out of him mechanically, no feeling attached to him. It had been like someone else had been doing it all, Jaskier just watching as his body moved and sang. And no one had noticed.

It hurt to know that no one really cared enough about him to know he was sinking so low he couldn’t bring himself back out. It hurt to know that he had no one. No one in the world who would even notice to help pull him out of this mess Jaskier had gotten himself into. He desperately missed Geralt.

Geralt had always known when Jaskier was working himself to hard. He’d wrap Jaskier in those big warm arms of his and hold Jaskier close. Offering silent protective comfort while Jaskier put himself back together, knowing he was safe in Geralt’s embrace. Except he’d never get that back. Geralt didn’t care about him anymore. And Jaskier was glad. He was glad Geralt was moving on with his life, no matter how much it killed Jaskier to think of Geralt with anyone else but him. It didn’t matter. His happiness didn’t matter. The only thing that did was that Geralt was safe from Marx, that he and Ciri were happy. And if that was the only thing that Jaskier could do for his beloved white-haired ex, then Jaskier would make damned sure Marx never ruined Geralt’s happiness. No matter what.

…….

“This isn’t good.” Yennefer said, her violet eyes filled with worry as she sat at the dining table after dinner. They were at Vesemir’s house, the whole family (minus Ciri who had been distracted by Lambert creating a treasure hunt that was taking her round the whole yard and house) sat listening to what Yennefer had found on Valdo Marx.

When Geralt had realised what Marx had done, what he was doing to Jaskier, the first person he had called was Yennefer. Geralt had originally wanted to follow Marx and punch the living shit out of him (a plan backed up whole heartedly by Lambert and Eskel when Geralt had told them what he’d found out) but the sensible part of his brain had won out. Hitting Marx wouldn’t solve any problems, would probably only make everything so much worse in the long run. So he’d called Yennefer because she was not only a cold hearted bitch when she wanted to be but she was one of the best lawyers in the business and would know exactly how to systematically destroy Marx without causing anymore hurt to Jaskier or Ciri.

At this point Geralt didn’t care what happened to him and if he thought it would help he would have gone straight to Jaskier and told him this. Vesemir had stopped him, reminding Geralt that he still had Ciri to think about and anything that Geralt did would affect Ciri. Geralt couldn’t risk that, he loved his daughter to much to hurt her. That coupled with the fact Geralt had no idea where Jaskier even was had been the only things stopping him from finding Jaskier and dropping to his knees and begging the man he loved for his forgiveness. He should have been there for Jaskier. He should never accused him of cheating.

“It already isn’t.” Eskel pointed out. They’d all seen a few recent interviews featuring Jaskier and the sight of him broken their hearts. He had lost weight, his already slim figure painfully thin now. His face was gaunt, blue eyes empty and devoid of anything. Geralt felt like his heart was breaking all over again whenever he saw Jaskier now. The musician was hurting and the knowledge that there wasn’t anything Geralt could do to help without making things so much worse hurt Geralt more than anything.

“What did you find Yenn?” Triss asked, voice filled with concern as she looked at the violet eyed woman.

“There a large number of legal cases filed against Marx in the last 5 years. All for manipulative and obsessive behaviour. All from former clients of his. A number claim Marx was also physically abusive against them.”

Why didn’t Jaskier’s fucking label pick up on this before they hired him?” Lambert growled.

“Because every case was dropped before it even went to court. I only found this because I went digging.” Yennefer sighed, running a hand through her hair. “There’s more.”

“More than him already being a complete bastard.” Lambert retorted, anger shimmering from him.

“I talked to one of Marx’s old clients. They told me that before she got away from Marx things escalated. To the point were Marx forced himself on her.” Yennefer’s violet eyes were full of pain as she spoke.

“Forced?” Geralt growled, anger and pain running through him as he thought of Marx hurting Jaskier. His Jaskier who wouldn’t hurt a fly.

“Sexually.” Yennefer sighed. “She went to the police but there was never any proof and Marx claimed she wanted it.”

“I’ll kill him.” Geralt growled, low and angry in his throat. If that man touched Jaskier, he’d kill him. Except Marx had already touched Jaskier. They’d all seen the photo them to lose Jaskier. They’d seen the way Marx had been all over Jaskier. And Geralt had blamed Jaskier for cheating on him. He felt sick to his stomach at the thought.

“Think about Ciri, Geralt.” Vesemir said softly. “Yennefer is there anything you can do?”

“I’m trying but without Jaskier, there’s no proof. Even if Jaskier testified against him, Marx might still get off.” Yennefer sighed.

“What about the other victims?” Triss asked and Yennefer nodded.

“A few said they’d testify if we decided to take this to court but I need to get it there.” Yennefer sighed again, violet eyes filled with pain as she turned to Geralt. “But we need Jaskier. And Jaskier won’t agree. Not if it might hurt you.”

“I don’t care about me.” Geralt shouted, anger running through him.

“But you do about Ciri.” Yennefer said, voice calm. “This doesn’t just affect you it affects Ciri as well. Anything Marx says about you. If he blames you for the bruises, it doesn’t matter what the truth is the press with crucify you and what do you think that will do to Ciri.”

“Then what do we do?” Geralt felt defeat claw at him. He couldn’t leave Jaskier to Marx but he couldn’t risk hurting his daughter.

“I’m working on it.” Yennefer promised. “I promise, we’ll figure this out.” Geralt didn’t believe her. It didn’t matter if they solved this problem, Geralt knew Jaskier would never forgive him. How could he? Geralt had left Jaskier in the hands of this monster and it didn’t matter that Geralt hadn’t known the truth when he’d kicked Jaskier out of their home because he’d still done it. And now Jaskier was all alone.

………

“That was perfect songbird.” Marx grinned, lips pressing against Jaskier’s cheek. Jaskier shivered at the touch as Marx wrapped a hand around Jaskier’s wrist. They were 6 weeks into the tour now, in Germany (Jaskier thought anywhere he hadn’t been paying attention to where the tour was since the first week or so).

Marx was pressed against Jaskier’s side in the bar. They had a rare day off tomorrow and the band had decided to go out for drinks to celebrate. Marx had dragged Jaskier out with them even though all Jaskier wanted to do was curl up into his bed and sleep. He was just so tired all of the time. It didn’t help that recently Jaskier had been waking with massive headaches and every part of him seemed to ache. But none of that mattered to Marx. As long as Jaskier could still perform in the tour (and go on all the interviews that he had planned in between the tour dates), he didn’t care that Jaskier could barely concentrate on what was happening around him. He also didn’t care that while the band and Marx might have a day off tomorrow, Jaskier didn’t. Marx had planned interviews for Jaskier all day tomorrow, meaning he’d be up early and probably won’t get to sleep until late.

“Come on drink up.” Marx said, pushing a drink into Jaskier’s hand. The musician had no idea what was in it and the thought of drinking it made him feel nausea. He’d barely been eating recently, food turning to ash and making him feel sick. Marx had been thrilled when Jaskier had dropped 2 dress sizes before the tour, wrapping his hands around Jaskier’s rapidly decreased waist and squeezing tightly. “Come on songbird, don’t be a diva about a little drink. It’s good for you.” Marx said, picking he drink up and forcing it into Jaskier’s hands. Jaskier took a small sip, gagging at the taste of vodka that went down his throat “Good songbird.” Marx smiled, kissing Jaskier’s throat.

Jaskier just sat there quietly, not saying a word. Recently Jaskier had been getting sore throats a lot, he blamed it on the excessive schedule Marx had him on. His voice had never had so much use and the lack of rest between shows and interviews was starting to take it’s toll on Jaskier’s vocal chords. One of the producers on the tour had suggested a concoction for Jaskier to drink which had helped soothe the ache slightly but Jaskier was still in pain whenever he finished a show. Again, not that Marx cared.

The night dragged for Jaskier. He held onto the one drink that Marx had pushed into his hands, taking hesitant sips whenever Marx encouraged him to. Marx didn’t leave Jaskier’s side all night, drinking and laughing as he wrapped arms around Jaskier. A hand rested on Jaskier’s inner thigh, pinching the soft skin through Jaskier’s skinny jeans at odd intervals. His lips were always pressing against Jaskier’s neck or cheek or lips. And the only thing Jaskier could think was that he was so tired. He just wanted to go back to the hotel and try to get at least a few hours of sleep before he had to move his aching muscles again.

When Marx finally announced he and Jaskier were returning to the hotel, Jaskier was so grateful he didn’t even care that Marx kept a hand wrapped around Jaskier’s waist. Marx held Jaskier close, trailing Jaskier’s ribs as they walked the short distance back to their hotel. It was only a 5 minute walk but by the time they got there Jaskier’s feet were dragging in protest. It had been a long day and it was now nearly 2 in the morning. Jaskier couldn’t wait to drop into the sheets and sleep.

Marx took Jaskier to his room but when Jaskier tried to say his goodnights, Marx just laughed. “Parties not over yet songbird.” Marx grinned. The smell of alcohol made Jaskier sick as Marx pushed against Jaskier. Marx slammed the door shut with his foot as his lips crashed against Jaskier’s, arms wrapped tightly around Jaskier’s waist holding the singer closer.

“What the fuck Valdo. Get off me.” Jaskier shouted, pushing at Marx’s chest. Marx just laughed into Jaskier’s lips.

“Come on songbird. You want this.” Marx grinned, pushing them towards the bed. He pushed Jaskier backwards, Jaskier toppling onto the bed as his knees hit the side of it. His hands reached down to trap Jaskier’s arms against the bed, lips still pressing against Jaskier’s. “I know you broke up with your boyfriend, songbird. I bet you’ve missed this. Don’t worry, I’ll make this so much better than Geralt ever did.”

And that did it. For the first time in months white hot anger ran though Jaskier and he did the only thing he could think to get Marx off him. He bit down on Marx’s lips, still pressing kisses to Jaskier’s mouth. The taste of coppery blood filled Jaskier’s mouth as blood dripped from Marx’s bitten lip.

“You fucking slut.” Marx shouted, pulling back from Jaskier and punching the singer in the face. Jaskier cried out in pain as his cheek throbbed painfully from Marx’s harsh punch. Before Jaskier could register past the blinding pain running up his head, Marx’s hands were pushing Jaskier’s shirt off. Jaskier struggled, hands flailing as Marx growled. “Stay still.” He growled.

All of a sudden, Marx’s hands were twisting in Jaskier’s hair, lifting the singer up. Jaskier shouted at the pain as he was forced to follow that hand gripping his hair to a seated position. Marx grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket and shoved it between Jaskier’s teeth violently, muffling the shouts Jaskier made. The Marx was kissing Jaskier again, violently. The cloth in Jaskier’s mouth made it hard for Jaskier to breath past the tears now running down his face and Marx’s hand in his hair held his head in place as Marx kissed with bruising force.

Jaskier punched Marx in the side, making the other man grunt and break the kiss. Jaskier lifted his hand to pull the cloth from his mouth but Marx just snarled. He pushed Jaskier back to the bed, flipping the musician so he was lying on his stomach. And then he grabbed Jaskier’s shirt again, pulling it harshly over Jaskier head and forcing Jaskier’s arms backwards with it. Jaskier screamed into the gag as his shirt was twisted harshly behind him, arms still trapped in the material as it was used to bind his arms behind his back.

“That’s better.” Marx whispered against Jaskier’s neck, kissing softly and almost tenderly now. Jaskier struggled against the shirt keeping his hands trapped behind his back.

Marx turned Jaskier over, before starting to trail soft kisses down Jaskier’s torso. Jaskier twisted on the bed as Marx suckled against Jaskier’s bared skin, biting harshly against one nipple causing Jaskier to arch on the bed. And then Marx’s fingers were at Jaskier’s trousers, working the zip lose. Jaskier tried to kick Marx off him but the man just laughed, his own legs trapping Jaskier’s legs between them.

And then he was pulling Jaskier’s jeans and briefs down, leaving Jaskier completely naked on the bed. Jaskier sobbed as Marx pressed down onto Jaskier, covering the singers whole body with his own. Jaskier tried to struggle but the weight of Marx’s body on his own kept him immobile. “Perfect songbird.” Marx murmured into Jaskier’s throat, nipping at the sensitive skin there. Jaskier whimpered, thrashing his head back and forth.

Marx flipped Jaskier over, Jaskier face buried into the mattress. His hands disappeared for a moment and Jaskier tried to struggle into a sitting position but his arms bound as they were behind his back prevented him from doing so. Jaskier sobbed as he heard a zipper being done and the sound of clothes being removed. And then a hand groped at Jaskier’s arse, squeezing and fondling as Marx chuckled.

Marx was almost tender as he pressed a finger into Jaskier’s entrance but it didn’t matter that he was gentle as he prepared Jaskier because Jaskier felt sick nausea run through him. He screamed into the gag, wishing for someone to hear him. But the gag did its job in muffling the sound and Marx just chuckled at the sound. And then something big was pressing into Jaskier. Jaskier tried to buck but Marx just pressed forwards. His whole weight landed on Jaskier, crushing the singer into the mattress as he thrust in.

“Fuck, I can see why Geralt liked you.” Marx grunted into Jaskier’s ear, teeth nibbling at the sensitive lobe there. Jaskier sobbed as Marx thrust again, harshly. The sound of skin on skin echoed in Jaskier’s ears and when Marx’s cock twitched into Jaskier’s arse, Marx groaning loudly into Jaskier’s ear cumming straight into Jaskier’s arse. Jaskier passed out.

When he came to again he was lying on top of the bed. His arms were free and the gag gone, his limbs arranged so he was lying spread eagled on the bed. He opened bleary eyes and startled when he saw Marx standing above him. He had a phone out and the blinding flash of the light of a camera going off had Jaskier blinking back stars.

Jaskier jumped off the bed, grabbing the sheets with him and wrapping them around his body, staring at Marx with complete shock. “Don’t look at me like that songbird.” Marx sighed, going to cup Jaskier’s cheek with his hand.

“Get the fuck off me.” Jaskier bit, flinching away from the man.

Marx rolled his eyes, sighing as he placed his phone into his jacket pocket. “Now, I’ll pretend you didn’t say that. Heat of the moment and all that.” Marx grinned, eyes focusing on a bruise forming on Jaskier’s neck where his teeth had cruised the area. 

“I’ll tell the police.” Jaskier stammered. Marx had gone to far. Too far. Jaskier felt sick to his stomach at the knowledge of what Marx had done to him.

“No you won’t.” Marx sighed, looking at Jaskier as if he was child. “You’ll tell no one about this because if you do I’ll let the press rip your precious Geralt apart.” Marx grinned, pulling out his phone and showing it to Jaskier. “And these will go viral by the morning.” 

Jaskier felt his knees buckle, sobs running through him when he saw the pictures of his own naked body lying spread eagled on that bed. “So remember songbird.” Marx said, running a hand through Jaskier’s hair. “If you so much as breathe a word of this to anyone, I’ll not just destroy Geralt. I’ll destroy you to.”

Jaskier didn’t hear Marx leave the room, to overcome with sobs wracking through his body. He curled into a ball on the floor, tears running down his face as he felt the wetness between his thighs were Marx’s cum was leaking out of him.

There was nothing he could do. Marx could do this as many times as he wanted and there wasn’t anything Jaskier could do. He was completely at the mercy of this man. Jaskier felt nausea burn through him and only just managed to grab the metal bin as he vomited violently. Jaskier had never felt so alone.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of rape and violence in this chapter.

The days started to blur together for Jaskier after the rape. Marx was nearly constantly touching him now. A hand on his shoulder or his back, lips brushed against Jaskier’s neck right over the bruise he had left whenever no one was around. And no suspected a thing. He was in Jaskier’s rooms nearly every night now. Jaskier didn’t bother struggling after the first time. What was the point. There was nothing Jaskier could do without Marx releasing those photo’s he had taken of Jaskier to the press. Let alone what Marx could still do to Geralt. Jaskier wouldn’t put it past Marx to turn this whole situation around and blame Geralt for the rape, regardless of the fact Geralt and Jaskier had been broken up for nearly 7 months.

Jaskier cried himself to sleep every night, if he even did get any sleep. Most nights Marx would be in his room for hours. After the first few times Marx had started to stay past the actual rape. He would wrap Jaskier in his arms as Jaskier sobbed into the pillow. And somehow that was so much worse. The man that had just moments before hurt Jaskier was now wrapping him in his arms and offering comfort. Jaskier could enver rest while Marx lay their in his bed, stroking circles on Jaskier’s bare back as he called him his ‘good little songbird.’ By the time Marx finally disappeared for the night, Jaskier was lucky if he had a few hours before he had to get up and let the day start all over again.

And he was exhausted. Jaskier had never felt more tired than he did now. His whole body felt sluggish. He was barely functioning and it took every part of his foggy mind to concentrate enough to perform his songs before getting to the hotel room and collapsing. Only for Marx to walk in and start to touch him.

After the first night, Jaskier had tried to lock his door, fastening to bolt across. Marx had banged on the door demanding Jaskier let him in, or he would send the photo’s of Jaskier lying in that bed naked to Ciri. Jaskier had moved faster than his aching limbs had wanted him to then. The thought of Ciri, poor innocent Ciri being sent those disgusting images made Jaskier feel sick. He hadn’t tried to fight Marx since.

“Hey, Jaskier you ok?” Gareth, one of the band asked as Jaskier stumbled through one of the choreographed steps during rehearsals. 

“Hey Jaskier?” Patrick, the bass player, took hold of Jaskier’s shoulder to steady Jaskeir a bout of overwhelming dizziness ran through him. Jaskier just shook his head, feeling nausea run through him. 

Jaskier felt his legs shaking so he let himself fall down to sitting on the stage. He could hear worried shouts above his head but Jaskier just ignored them, vision blurring at the edges as he dropped his head into his hands. “Drink this.” Someone shoved a bottle of water into Jaskier’s hands. Jaskier’s hands would barely co-operate as he opened the bottle and took a long drink.

“What happened songbird?” Marx’s voice filtered in and Jaskier flinched back violently when he saw Marx was kneeling in front of him, mere inches from his face. Jaskier just looked at Marx in confusion, not understanding why the man that had caused him so much pain was looking at him in concern. “Come on songbird, we’ll get you back to the hotel and get some rest before the show.” Marx stated.

He took Jaskier’s hand and dragged the signer to his feet before Jaskier was truly ready. Jaskier felt dizziness overcome him and felt himself leaning heavily on Marx as Marx started to walk them out of the venue. Shouts of concern were waved off by Marx but the words just blended together in Jaskier’s mind.

Jaskier didn’t register the ride back to the hotel, or the journey back up to his hotel room. His mind was foggy and he couldn’t fully understand why he was being taken back to the hotel room when he was supposed to be rehearsing for tonight’s show. They were a week into the UK tour, leaving them only 2 weeks before the tour was finally over. The longest3 months in Jaskier’s life would be over and he could finally get away from Marx. Perhaps not permanently but at least he wouldn’t be in Jaskier;’s room every night. 

“What the fuck?” Marx growled, shoving Jaskier into the room, locking the door behind him. Jaskier stumbled, landing heavily on his hands and knees from the rough shove. He groaned softly as the dizziness overwhelmed him once more and he vomited violently onto the floor, stomach roiling painfully.

Marx kicked Jaskier in the ribs harshly. “Pathetic.” Marx growled, as Jaskier whimpered, curling tightly into a ball from the violent kick. His head was spinning and Jaskier felt exhaustion creeping through every part of him. He just wanted to sleep and wake up from this nightmare. He wanted Geralt. Black spots dotted in Jaskier’s vision and Marx was saying something but Jaskier couldn’t make it out. He was just so tired and the thought of rest, any rest, was too tempting. So Jaskier let himself drop into the blackness of sleep.

……..

“Wake up.” Marx growled, shaking Jaskier violently as Jaskier felt his bright blue eyes flutter sluggishly open. “Fuck Jaskier were going to be late at this rate. Get up.” Marx growled.

Jaskier groaned, lifting himself up off the floor, and he couldn’t remember why he was on the floor. And when had he gotten back to his rooms. The last thing he remembered was rehearsal’s and then everything was a blur. As he got up he gasped, hand going to his side where pain was radiating up his abdomen. Lifting his shirt, Jaskier winced when he saw a vicious purple bruise highlighted across his ribs.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Marx growled, slapping Jaskier harshly across the cheek when Jaskier just stared at him dimly. Jaskier’s head snapped backwards and he felt himself stumble a little. Marx growled, disappearing for a moment and then Jaskier was drenched. He spluttered, his foggy brain now slowly waking up as he registered Marx had dumped a bottle of water over his head. Jaskier blinked back the water from his eyes, staring at Marx with a bemused expression. “Are you trying to ruin my career?” Marx growled, hand wrapped harshly on Jaskier’s arm. “Do you want me to tell the press about Geralt. Do you want me to send those pictures to your family?” 

Jaskier shook his head, mind still trying to understand what had happened. He shivered as the cold water dribbling down his spine. “I’m sorry, I was tired.” Jaskier responded, flinching when Marx went to slap him again. Except he backed off, glaring angrily at Jaskier before shaking his head angrily.

“Jut get fucking dry and changed. We need to go or you’ll be late.” Marx growled, shoving a clean change of clothes into Jaskier’s hands and shoving Jaskier towards the bathroom. When Jaskier was in the bathroom, he just stared at the clothes Marx had given him now understanding what had just happened.

…….

“I need to speak to Jaskier.” Yennefer announced from her place at Geralt’s kitchen table. She had come to pick Ciri up for her weekend with their daughter, but had wanted to talk to Geralt first. Ciri was pretending to watch the movie on TV but Geralt knew she was listening. Try as he had, Geralt had failed in keeping this away from Ciri. His daughter was too smart for her own good and she had gathered something was wrong with Jaskier and that was why he wasn’t here. She didn’t know that Jaskier was being abused, potentially raped if what Yennefer’s source had said was true, but she knew enough to know Jaskier was in trouble. And her whole family was worried for him.

Geralt was proud of Ciri for these last 7 months. He knew she missed Jaskier more than anything. She asked about him almost daily and Geralt knew she was keeping a watch on social media to track Jaskier’s movements on the 3 month tour he was on. Ciri kept asking Geralt when Jaskier was coming home and Geralt didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t tell Ciri soon because he honestly didn’t know. Even if they solved this issue with Marx there was still no guarantee that Jaskier would even want to come home.

“Why?” Geralt asked.

“I think I know how to get Marx to back off.” Yennefer smiled the sort of smile that had most sensible people running a mile.

“How?” Geralt asked, eagerness running through him. Even if Jaskier wouldn’t come back to Geralt, the least Geralt could do was to protect Jaskier from Marx.

“I looked into the standard contracts that Jaskier’s label gets their employees to sign. Basics telling them anything they overhear at the label is strictly confidential. Meaning they can’t go to the press. Presuming Marx signed something similar in his contract, it means what he’s threatening Jaskier with he legally can’t do.”

“What does that mean?” Geralt growled.

“It means that if Marx goes to the press about Jaskier’s personal life then Jaskier has ever right to sue the bastard for every penny he has. And I looked into Marx’s bank accounts. He barely has 2 penny’s to his name. Rumours are he gambled and drank most of it away.” Yennefer smiled, violet eyes shining with victory. “It means Geralt, that he’s threatening Jaskier with empty threats. He can’t go through with them.”

“He could still do it anomalously.” Geralt pointed out but Yennefer just shrugged.

“Unless Marx is a computer genius we’d be able to trace that he was the one to do it.” Yennefer grinned and Geralt felt a small hint of hope at Yennefer’s words. “We can get Jaskier away from that bastard and then we can nail him to the wall with every illegal things he’s done. I bet I could get him 15 years in prison easily.” Yennefer grinned and Geralt felt the hope in chest kindling more and more.

“Then why aren’t you doing that now.” Ciri shouted, across the room. Geralt hadn’t noticed his daughter had stopped pretending to listen and was actually listening now. Her emerald eyes where wide with tears as she glared at her parents.

“Ciri…” Geralt started but Ciri shouted again, interrupting his words.

“Why aren’t you helping Jaskier?” Ciri was crying now. “He needs us and we’ve just abandoned him. If you can help him why aren’t you doing it now.” Geralt and Yennefer were up at the same time, both moving to the sofa and gathering their sobbing daughter into a tight embrace. Ciri buried her head in Geralt’s chest, crying loudly as Yennefer rubbed gentle circles on her back. “I want him to come home.” Ciri sobbed and Geralt felt his heart break because that was exactly what he wanted to.

“We’ll do our best Ciri.” Yennefer said, voice tight with emotion. “I promise Ciri, we’ll get Jaskier home as soon as we can.” Geralt grunted his agreement. The only snag to that plan was that they still had no idea how to talk to Jaskier without Marx finding them.

………..

The last show of the tour was back in London. Jaskier felt his heart breaking all over again at the knowledge of how close he was to Geralt. So close yet there might as well be an ocean between them still. Most of the last 2 weeks had been a blur. Jaskier was just so tired he could barely concentrate and he could feel Marx getting angrier and angrier. He had punched Jaskier harshly a few times now, avoiding his face for the time being because the force of these punches would have left bruises that even Jaskier’s make=up artists would have a hard time covering.

The more Jaskier just stared at Marx in confusion, his tired brain not concentrating on understanding what Marx wanted from him, the angrier Marx got. Marx had a permanent angry look on his face now, hands always squeezing Jaskier harshly when Jaskier couldn’t answer a direct question. One night after a performance that had left Jaskier so tired he thought he might have collapsed on stage, Marx had ordered Jaskier to strip. The man enjoyed the power he had over Jaskier and loved to make Jaskier’s embarrassment that much worse. But when Jaskier had just blinked confusedly at him, sluggish mind not registering the words enough to understand them let alone get the rest of his body to perform them, Marx had punched Jaskier harshly in the stomach.

Jaskier had ended up doubled over, fighting for breath as he ended up on the floor. A litany of kicks followed, painfully making Jaskier’s ribs creak in protest. When Marx had beaten his anger out of Jaskier, he had stripped Jaskier himself. Jaskier had tried to struggle but his movements were sluggish and uncoordinated, leaving Marx laughing at the attempts as he had his way with the musician.

That had been a week ago and Jaskier’s ribs had been aching ever since. It left him breathless after every song and crippling pain running through him after every performance, leaving him light headed and even more exhausted than usual. Marx had seen Jaskier’s pain in the way he had sung in rehearsals the day after the event and has taken to forcing Jaskier to take 2 painkillers before every show. Jaskier was grateful for it, even if the pain wasn’t completely gone it was enough to get him through the 2 hour performance.

Jaskier had been feeling off all day. His throat hurt from the constant use his vocal chords had gotten for the last 3 months and he had a blinding headache. They’d cancelled that days rehearsals, even Marx having to admit that Jaskier wasn’t in a fit state to rehearse if they still wanted to get the final show done. As Jaskier was getting into the outfit for the beginning of the show, he felt a wave of overwhelming dizziness run through him.

Jaskier sat down harshly on the chair in the dressing room, willing his vision to stop spinning. He took a deep breath in, causing his vision to spin as pain laced up his aching ribs. Jaskier groaned, black spots dancing in his vision and he was so tired. So fucking tired. Jaskier didn’t even register falling to the ground as he slipped into unconsciousness.


	16. Chapter 16

“Geralt Rivia?” A female voice sounded on the end of the line when Geralt picked it up. The noise from the bar echoed in Geralt’s office as he answered.

“Yes, who is this?”

“I’m calling from the Royal London Hospital.” The woman answered and Geralt felt his heart drop. What had happened? Was someone hurt? Ciri? No, it wouldn’t be Ciri if it was Yennefer would have called. “You’re listed as the next of kin for Julian Alfred Pankratz.” And Geralt felt his heart sink even further down.

“Jaskier. Is he ok?” Geralt asked, worry spiking through him even as he felt a glimmer of hope that Jaskier hadn’t changed Geralt’s name on the next of kin forms.

“He collapsed this evening. The Doctor’s will explain more when you get here.”

“I’ll be half an hour.” Geralt replied, already shrugging his jacket on and grabbing his keys. As he hung up the phone he couldn’t be more grateful he was at the bar tonight rather than at home otherwise it would have an hour driving before he even got into London.

“Geralt, what’s wrong?” Triss shouted as Geralt stalked past the bar.

“Jaskier’s in hospital.”

“Shit is he ok?” Triss shouted, concern running through her. Geralt just grunted, not knowing how to answer that question. “I’ll call everyone. Let them know. Send him my love.” Triss shouted as Geralt disappeared through the exit.

The ride to the hospital was a blur and it took to long for Geralt to find a park. By the time he was walking through the doors of A&E he was shaking from overwhelming worry and anger. Marx. Geralt was sure that whatever had made Jaskier collapse had something to do with Marx.

“Geralt Rivia. Here to see Julian Alfred Pankratz.” Geralt growled at the receptionist. She didn’t seem put out as she searched the computer, even when Geralt glared angrily at the length of time it took the woman to find Jaskier’s birth name on the computer.

“3rd floor, room 304. I’ll let the Doctor know you’re on your way up.” Geralt grunted and was about to turn away from her when she asked. “There’s another man here asking for Mr Pankratz, should I let him up?”

“Who is he?” Geralt growled, knowing already who she was going to say.

She consulted a post it note before saying, “Valdo Marx.”

“Don’t let him anywhere near Jaskier’s room.” Geralt growled before turning out of A&E in search of Jaskier’s room. It was a blessing for Marx that Geralt hadn’t seen him otherwise Geralt wouldn’t have been responsible for what would happen.

The Doctor was waiting for Geralt outside Jaskier’s room and he shook Geralt’s hand when she introduced himself. “Dr Regis. Can I ask your relationship to Mr Pankratz?”

“He’s my ex.” Geralt growled, Regis lifted an eyebrow but nodded.

“How long have you been broken up?” 

“7 months.” Geralt answered, pain filling him at the thought that this would be the first time in 7 months that he would see Jaskier.

“And you haven’t seen Mr Pankratz in that time?” Regis asked and Geralt glared at the man, wondering why he was asking all these questions.

“No.” Geralt growled and the tension in Regis’ face seemed to disappear as he smiled at Geralt. “Then this way please.”

Regis led Geralt into a small hospital room where Jaskier was lying still on the bed. Geralt felt his breath stutter as he saw Jaskier for the first time in months. His face was gaunt and very pale. There were large back bags under Jaskier’s eyes, making the pale quality of skin stand out even more. His arms placed over the hospital issued blankets where thinner than Geralt remembered and an IV sticking in Jaskier’s right wrist made him feel sick. But that wasn’t the worst part of it. The parts of Jaskier’s arms uncovered by the blankets were covered with a myriad of bruises. Some were yellow and nearly healed while some where an ugly dark purple. There were bruises littering Jaskier’s collar bone and Geralt had no doubt that if he were to lift the gown Jaskier wore he would see bruises littering his torso. A fading yellow bruise covered the left side of Jaskier’s cheek.

“You see why I had to check who you were?” Regis said, voice apologetic as he closed the door behind him.

“Who?” Geralt growled, anger running through him. He moved hesitantly towards Jaskier’s side but paused at the bedside. He didn’t want to touch Jaskier, didn’t want to hurt him anymore than the bruises indicated Jaskier had been hurt already.

“You can hold his hand. He hasn’t got any broken bones though his ribs are badly bruised.” Regis stated. Geralt took Jaskier’s hand in his, ignoring the frail feeling of Jaskier’s previously strong hand. Jaskier had always been slim but his body had had muscle before. Not Geralt’s bulky muscle but a defined strong muscle all the same. Now, Jaskier just looked like skin and bones and it hurt Geralt to see it. 

“What happened?” Geralt asked, turning to see Regis’ critical gaze on him.

“Mr Pankratz collapsed in his dressing room. From my observations, I believe he collapsed from exhaustion and severely low blood sugar. If left untreated much longer this could have been a lot worse.” Regis stated and Geralt felt his heart break a little more. How had no one noticed Jaskier was so ill.

“Can you help him?” Geralt asked, panic clawing at him at the sight of Jaskier’s pale face lying on the white sheets.

“Mostly he just needs rest. A lot of rest and he needs to put some weight back on.” Regis stated. “What concerns me are the bruises we’ve found on Mr Pankratz.” Geralt felt sick to his stomach at the thought of the pain Jaskier must have been suffering these last few months. “Do you know who might have caused these?” Regis asked and Geralt fumed because he knew exactly who had caused these.

“That man downstairs. Valdo Marx.” Geralt growled.

“He’s Mr Pankratz’s new boyfriend?” Regis asked and Geralt shook his head.

“Manager.” Regis nodded his head, eyes seeming to consider Geralt for a moment.

“At first glance I thought it was you causing these bruises but I can see now I was wrong. You care about him a great deal?” Geralt just grunted in acknowledgement. “Then there’s something else you should know. Some of the bruises around his thighs indicate evidence of forced sexual contact. I haven’t examined him any further than checking to make sure there was no tearing and there doesn’t appear to be but from my experience those types of bruises only usually indicate one thing.” Geralt felt anger tearing up him as he tenderly brushed a stray strand of hair from Jaskier’s face. “I’m aware of who Mr Pankratz is.” Regis stated matter of factly as he watched Geralt. “I can assure you my staff will keep the nature of Mr Pankratz’s injuries confidential and hospital security will keep the more curious fans away from his rooms while he recovers. Is there anyone they should know to let in?”

“Yennefer Vengerburg.” Geralt grunted, knowing Yennefer would want to talk to Jaskier the first chance she could about what to do about Marx. “Triss Merigold, Vesemir, Eskel and Lambert Rivia.”

“Anyone else?” Regis asked, pen poised over the paper.

Geralt hesitated for a moment before replying. “Ciri Rivia.” He knew that Ciri would want to see Jaskier and while it pained Geralt to let his daughter see Jaskier in this state he knew he couldn’t hide this from her. Not if Jaskier wanted to see her as well.

“I should warn you Mr Rivia.” Regis said, voice serious now. “Mr Marx has already tried to force his way up here and I don’t doubt he will try again. And when the police are informed of these bruises, I don’t doubt they will suspect yourself of making them.” Geralt just grunted. He knew perfectly well what people would presume but he didn’t care. As long as Jaskier was safe, that’s all that mattered right now. Keeping Jaskier as far away from Marx as possible. “I’ll do my best to help you both but it’s hospital protocol that we had to report these injuries.”

“It’s fine. You’ve done everything you can.” Geralt replied. “As long as Jaskier’s ok.” Regis nodded, taking one final look at Geralt before exiting the room. Geralt kept a light grip on Jaskier’s hand, stroking soft circles over the hand. None of it mattered now. The only thing that did was getting Jaskier better.

……

Jaskier woke slowly. His head was pounding and his body was sluggish as he slowly came awake. He couldn’t remember falling asleep and the bed didn’t feel the same way it had this morning. The sheets were too tight around him and the mattress too hard. Jaskier groaned as he slowly lifted his eyes only to be treated to a sight that had him thinking he was still asleep.

Geralt was sitting at the bedside, his hand holding Jaskier’s. His amber eyes were wide with concern and only seemed to grow wider as Jaskier groggily opened his eyes. “Jaskier.” Geralt breathed, relief washing over those amber eyes. Jaskier just blinked up at Geralt in confusion. What was Geralt doing here? As if he had heard the question Geralt grunted, “The hospital called me. Said you collapsed.”

Shit, Jaskier had never changed his next of kin. He’d forgotten all about it and now Geralt had been dragged away from his happy family because of Jaskier. Jaskier felt tears well up in his eyes as he the dream was replaced with the knowledge that Geralt was probably only here because of a sense of duty. “I’m sorry Geralt.” Jaskier said, surprised to find his throat dry and voice croaky when he spoke.

“Don’t apologise.” Geralt grunted, reaching for a cup at the side of Jaskier’s bedside and offering it to Jaskier. Jaskier tried to lift his hand from the bed but he was so tired and his body wouldn’t seem to co-operate enough to move. “It’s ok.” Geralt murmured, moving the straw in the cup towards Jaskier’s mouth. Jaskier drank slowly, letting the cool liquid soothe some of the aching in his throat. When Jaskier was done, Geralt placed the cup back on the counter and fixed Jaskier with a sad smile. “If anyone should apologise its me.”

“I…” Jaskier croaked but Geralt shushed him. His hand had taken Jaskier’s again, slowly stroking Jaskier’s wrist softly.

“I shouldn’t have kicked you out.” Geralt grumbled and Jaskier’s heard broken when he saw tears leave Geralt’s eyes. “I should have listened to your side of the story not jump to conclusions. I was an idiot and I am so fucking sorry for abandoning you when you needed me most.” Jaskier wanted to lift a hand to wipe the tears from Geralt’s face but his traitorous body wouldn’t let him. “And when I tried to call you tell you I was sorry and I couldn’t get through…fuck I gave up to easy. I gave that monster a chance to hurt you.”

“You tried to phone me?” Jaskier managed to croak, confusion running through him.

“Yes. We all did.” Geralt said, eyes frowning as he looked at Jaskier.

“I didn’t…I never got any calls.” Jaskier breathed, sorrow running through him. He thought they’d abandoned him. He thought they’d left him to his fate. But they hadn’t…they’d tried to phone him so why didn’t he get them.

“Our numbers were blocked.” Geralt said, confusion laced in his tone as he wiped a tear running down Jaskier’s face.

“I never…” Jaskier started before remembering the Monday after that horrible weekend. Finding Marx with his hands on Jaskier’s phone. He’d never understood what Marx had done and he’d never thought to check his contacts. Just presumed that his family had abandoned him like everyone else in his life did. Expect they hadn’t. “Marx must have…I didn’t know.” Jaskier whispered, feeling shame run through him. He’d given up on his family so easily. Accepted that they didn’t really care about him when all this time they had.

“It’s not your fault.” Geralt said, voice filled with emotion. “None of this is your fault. Marx did this. All of this and we’re going to make him fucking pay for it.”

“You can’t.” Jaskier said, panic running through him at Geralt’s words. Shit, if Marx wasn’t here and Geralt was…what would he do. “Geralt you can’t be here. You have to…You have to forget this ever happened. You can’t be here.” Jaskier panicked, wincing as pain laced up his ribs at the jolt he made as he pulled his hand from Geralt’s.

“Jaskier, listen to me.” Geralt said, amber eyes blazing with love and God Jaskier had missed those eyes. “Marx is never going to hurt you again and you don’t have to worry about him blackmailing you anymore. Trust me. Yennefer will explain everything but we’re going to fix this. All of this.” Geralt said, squeezing Jaskier’s hand tightly as Jaskier turned blue eyes to amber ones.

“I can’t let him hurt you.” Jaskier whispered, tears streaming down his face.

“Let me worry about me.” Geralt said, placing a soft kiss to Jaskier’s head. “You just worry about yourself. Now get some sleep. You’re exhausted and you need to rest.” Jaskier felt himself nodding his head, mind reeling from everything Geralt had said but too tired to fight it. 

Jaskier fell asleep to the feeling of Geralt stroking his hair.


	17. Chapter 17

Shit. Geralt stared at his phone and felt sick to his stomach. He’d been flicking through the newsfeed on his phone since Jaskier had fell asleep hours ago when the article had appeared. Jaskier shifted in his sleep, frown pulling at his face and Geralt felt sick to his stomach when he realised Jaskier would have to see this. He would wake up to see this.

Geralt stroked a soft hand through Jaskier’s hair, Jaskier’s stirring calming as the musician leaning into Geralt’s touch. What would Jaskier think when he saw this? It would hurt him, of that Geralt was sure. Jaskier was always terrified of what the press might say about him it’s why he never left the house looking anything less than perfect. And now the press had this photo. This photo that showed something Geralt knew Jaskier would never have wanted them to see.

The picture was of Jaskier. He was lying on spread eagled on the bed, bright blue eyes looking up at the camera bleary eyed. Anyone else might have seen that expression and seen lust but Geralt knew his Jaskier. He knew those eyes showed nothing but fear and betrayal in them. Geralt felt sick to his stomach, knowing exactly who had taken this phot and when. This photo of Jaskier, lying naked and spread eagled every curve and crevice of his body on display. And that photo was everywhere.

…….

Yennefer was seething as she stalked through the hospital. Ciri had seen that fucking picture. Ciri. Her daughter. Her innocent daughter who had spent the better part of 3 hours sobbing uncontrollably into Yennefer’s arms after she had shown Yennefer that picture in the early hours of the morning. That was at 5 this morning, it was now nearly 10. She’d dropped Ciri off at Vesemir’s, promising her daughter that she would sort this. The only bonus in Ciri seeing that picture of Jaskier lying on the bed naked was that the parental locks Yennefer and Geralt had put on her phone ensured she could only see the age suitable version. Which was still bad enough, Jaskier’s more intimate bits hidden behind large black boxes. When Yennefer was done with Marx she was doing after whoever the fuck thought that was suitable to pass through the parental locks she and Geralt had placed on Ciri’s phone.

And if she ever saw Marx she would kill him. Prison be fucked she would kill that man. The source of the picture had been anonymous but Yennefer knew there was only one person who could have taken that picture. And the knowledge of how Marx had gotten that picture, when he had taken it, filled Yennefer with white hot rage. He had raped Jaskier and as if that wasn’t bad enough he had photographed it and leaked it. As far as she was concerned, Marx was a dead man walking now. If she didn’t get to him then Geralt and his brothers, Vesemir and Triss would.

It was with a sick sort of pleasure at the thought of what Jaskier’s family would do to Marx that Yennefer entered Jaskier’s hospital room.

………..

Jaskier was sitting up in the bed, pushing around d the breakfast the nurses had dropped off in his room that morning, when Yennefer walked in. “You need to eat.” Geralt encouraged but Jaskier just shook his head. The thought of food made him sick right now.

Geralt hadn’t told Jaskier about the picture and Jaskier knew if he hadn’t grabbed Geralt’s phone when the white-haired man wasn’t paying attention he would have kept it from Jaskier as long as possible. As it was when Jaskier woke that morning and saw the anger in Geralt’s face, pain radiating in his eyes as he looked at Jaskier, Jaskier knew something was wrong. Knowing Geralt well enough to know the man wouldn’t tell Jaskier what was wrong, wanting to protect him Jaskier had taken matters into his own hands. Geralt’s hand had been on his phone and Jaskier had grabbed it before Geralt could argue. The page was open on a picture that Jaskier had hoped never to see again in his entire life.

Jaskier had dropped the phone onto the bed, leaning over the side and vomited violently onto the floor. Tears ran down his face and shame curled low in his belly when he realised Geralt had seen it. Geralt had seen that fucking picture Marx had taken after he had first raped Jaskier. Jaskier had sobbed brokenly, at the thought of it. Geralt. Fuck, what would Geralt think?

And Geralt. Kind generous Geralt who was always there for Jaskier, had just sat on the side of the bed and pulled Jaskier into a large hug. Jaskier had sobbed into Geralt’s arms, clutching at the black t-shirt Geralt wore, not caring that he was covering it with snot and tears. Geralt had stroked Jaskier’s back gently and Jaskier had sobbed harder. How long had he wanted Geralt to hold him, to protect and comfort him. And now Geralt was doing exactly that, it was like floodgates had been opened and Jaskier couldn’t control the sobs that wracked through him. Geralt said nothing, just offered him the silent comfort that he had always given Jaskier. Offering no judgement just love and affection. 

When Jaskier had finally calmed down enough, Geralt had kissed him softly on the forehead. He had called a nurse who had come and cleaned up the vomit from the floor. Jaskier had cringed into Geralt’s side in embarrassment but Geralt just kissed his head again. “It’s ok. It’s not your fault.” He had promised and Jaskier felt fat ugly tears running down his face once more.

The Doctor, a man named Regis, came in to check on Jaskier after that. He’d made no comment on Geralt sitting in the bed holding Jaskier as he checked Jaskier’s vitals. Jaskier had winced when Regis had had him lift his shirt up, revealing bandages wrapped around his torso to protect his bruised ribs. “They should be healed in about 4 to 6 weeks.” Regis had commented happily as his fingers splayed across the bandages, making Jaskier cringe against Geralt’s side from the pain of those fingers moving across the bruised area. “I’ll get the nurses to drop off some food. You need to eat.”

That had been an hour ago and Jaskier hadn’t been able to stomach a single bite since. “Geralt’s right, Jask.” Yennefer’s voice stated from the doorway. “You look like shit.” She added. Usually Jaskier would insult her right back but he couldn’t bring himself to.

Yennefer said nothing as she came to sit on the opposite side of Jaskier. Geralt had moved from the bed when the nurses had brought the food and Jaskier felt himself missing the comforting feeling of Geralt’s arms around him. He knew it was selfish but he didn’t care.

“I think I can help you with your problem with Marx.” Yennefer said, squeezing Jaskier’s other hand, careful not to dislodge the IV drip there.

“You can’t.” Jaskier sighed, resignation running through him. He knew what that picture was. It was a warning.

“We can.” Geralt grunted, taking Jaskier’s other hand and squeezing it.

“You can’t.” Jaskier would have shouted if his sore throat would allow it. The plate of food was sitting untouched on the hospital tray now. “You don’t understand.”

“We do.” Geralt tried but Jaskier snorted, anger running through him.

“How the fuck can you Geralt?” Jaskier knew he wasn’t fair of him to direct his anger at Geralt but he couldn’t help it. He was just so tired of it all. “There’s nothing anyone can do about this not without hurting you and I won’t do that Geralt.” Geralt opened his mouth to protest but Geralt interrupting, piercing Geralt with pain filled blue eyes. “Please Geralt. I promised. I promised I’d keep this away from you so please let me.”

“No.” Geralt growled. “You promised you’d keep me and Ciri away from the lunatics that follow you around. The bastards that would post that fucking picture of you without any though of what that would do to you. How it would make you feel.” Geralt’s voice was filled with anger but his eyes were soft when they looked at Jaskier. “You made that promise because you didn’t think anyone would actually use it to hurt you. And that’s exactly what happened Jask. You were hurt and I won’t let you get hurt again for my sake. So please. Let us help.” Jaskier felt tears well in his eyes. He wanted so desperately for Geralt to help but he couldn’t let him. He couldn’t ruin Geralt’s life like Jaskier’s had already been ruined.

“before you say anything else.” Yennefer cut in. “Let me explain how we can help.” Jaskier turned to face Yennefer with unsure eyes. When he didn’t protest, Yennefer continued. “Marx can’t legally go to the press with any of this. Not if he doesn’t want to break the contract he signed when he because your manager. I’ve read that contract, I got a copy from your friend Priscilla. If he breaks that contract then he doesn’t legally have a leg to stand on.”

“He already did.” Jaskier argued. “Those pictures. He took them after he…” Here Jaskier trailed off, fear running through him. Geralt didn’t know. No one knew. Marx has specifically told Jaskier never to tell anyone.

“After he raped you.” Geralt growled, hand squeezing Jaskier’s hand softly. Jaskier turned his gaze to Geralt with tears in his eyes. “We know what he did Jask. Not all of it but enough.”

“Enough to put him in prison for years.” Yennefer added, vicious smile fixed on her face. “If you trust us and you tell the truth.”

“But Geralt.” Jaskier breathed.

“I will be fine and so will Ciri.” Geralt promised.

“I’ll make sure of it.” Yennefer said. “With your permission, I’m going to take this case and the first course of action is to file a lawsuit against Marx for releasing those pictures.” Jaskier just looked between Yennefer and Geralt in stunned silence. He didn’t fully believe any of this. Slowly Jaskier nodded and Yennefer grinned.

“Now eat Your all skin and bones even Ciri could break you in two if she tried.” Yennefer said as she stood up. Jaskier looked down at the plate of food in front of him and hesitantly picked up the toast. “Good. Now if you don’t mind me I’m going to go and destroy Valdo fucking Marx.”

And as Yennefer exited the room, Jaskier felt like the weight he’d been carrying around for months had finally been lifted.

…….

“You can’t do this.” Marx squawked as Yennefer handed him the paper detailing the beginnings of the lawsuit against Marx. She’d drawn up the start of it before she’d even gone to the hospital, knowing Jaskier would eventually agree to it.

“I assure you I can. You broke your contract with my client.”

“Jaskier's lying.” Marx spluttered.

“He explained that you were the only one who had access to that photo.” Yennefer pointed out with gleeful expression as Marx paled in front of her.

“My phone was stolen.” Yennefer just smiled again.

“Then you admit you took this photo against my clients will.” Yennefer pointed out. “This is only the beginning of the lawsuits which will be brought against you from my client.” Marx paled again, scrunching the paper in his hands. “And if you even consider breaking this contract any further than you already have I will bury you.” Yennefer smirked as Marx leant away from her, face pale. Fury was hidden in his dark eyes but Yennefer knew he wouldn’t release anything about Geralt to the media. Not now at least. And if he did, well Yennefer almost hoped he did.

Without a backwards glance, Yennefer turned and left Marx standing there, looking at her in shocked rage.


	18. Chapter 18

Yennefer sat with Jaskier as Detective Dijkstra sat in the chair next to Jaskier. She squeezed Jaskier’s hand gently and Jaskier felt some of the tension ease. He had wanted Geralt to stay but Yennefer had said that wasn’t possible. As it was Dijsktra didn’t seem particularly happy that Yennefer was here but as Jaskier’s lawyer he couldn’t kick her out. A fact Jaskier was eternally grateful for.

“So you’re accusing Valdo Marx of assaulting you.” Dijsktra stated, reading over the statement Yennefer had prepared that morning. Jaskier nodded.

“Assault and rape.” Yennefer added, glaring at Dijsktra who just glared back.

“Do you have any evidence?” The detective asked.

“We have witness testimony’s.” Yennefer pointed out.

“But no physical case. This is a he said she said situation Mr Pankratz, without evidence this case may very well get thrown out of court.”

“Might.” Yennefer added, fixing Dijsktra with a glare. The detective considered this for a moment before nodding reluctantly.

“This whole case would rely on your testimony against Mr Marx.” Dijsktra continued, turning to fix Jaskier with a harsh look. Jaskier felt himself sit a little straighter in the bed and nodded. Yennefer had explained everything she had found out about Marx and the knowledge that Marx had done this before made Jaskier sick.

“If I have a chance to stop this from ever happening again then I have to do it.” Dijsktra seemed impressed as this as he nodded.

“Then I’ll pass this onto the crown prosecution. They’ll decide what to do with the case.” Dijsktra shook Yennefer’s hand before shaking Jaskier’s to and turning to leave. When the door closed behind him, Jaskier felt the tension disappear.

“We can still back away from this Jaskier.” Yennefer said. “We’ve got enough evidence that he broke your contract, we can go after him that way.” Jaskier just shook his head. He knew what Yennefer meant. This would be in the press soon, Jaskier knew that for a fact. And he knew he would have to face Marx in court and that thought terrified him. It terrified him more that he knew he had to talk about what had happened. 

“I have to do it Yenn. If there’s a chance he’ll do this again I have to try.” Yennefer gave Jaskier a soft smile, pride filling her gaze as she squeezed his hand softly.

……

“Mr Rivia.” Detective Dijsktra stated as he exited Jaskier’s room. Geralt had been pacing nervously waiting for Jaskier to finish talking to the Detective. He knew how nervous Jaskier was. All of this was riding on Jaskier. There was no evidence and if the Detective decided not to believe Jaskier then Marx would go free. Geralt felt sick to his stomach at that thought. “Can we talk in private?” 

Geralt grunted, letting the Detective lead him to a quiet area further down the corridor. “Mr Rivia, I understand you used to date Mr Pankratz.” Geralt grunted in answer. He still loved Jaskier more than anything but he and Jaskier hadn’t discussed their relationship since Jaskier had woken 2 days ago. Geralt didn’t know if Jaskier still felt the same way Geralt did. “Have you ever physically hurt or assaulted Mr Pankratz?”

“No.” Geralt growled. He knew the question was coming but it still hurt to be asked. The thought of hurting Jaskier made him sick to his stomach.

Dijsktra nodded. “And you have proof that you have had no contact with Mr Pankratz in 7 months.”

“My family can vouge for me.” Geralt grunted and Dijsktra nodded again.

“Good. I imagine Mr Marx will try to blame you for the injuries Mr Pankratz has received. I suggest you get your full movements from the last 7 months submitted to myself by the end of the week.” Dijsktra handed Geralt a card with his number on it before turning to leave.

As soon as the Detective was gone, Geralt made his way back to Jaskier’s room and opened the door. Jaskier was sitting on the bed, Yennefer holding his hand tightly. The musician lifted bright blue eyes and smiled softly as Geralt walked in. Geralt grunted, taking a seat and pressing a soft kiss to Jaskier’s hand. “I’ll leave you to it.” Yennefer announced, smirking at the entwined hands of Geralt and Jaskier. Geralt ignored her, eyes fixed only on Jaskier

Jaskier looked so much better than he had when Geralt had first seen him 3 days ago. He now had a hint of colour in his cheeks and the bags under his eyes were no where near as prominent as he had been. The tension in Jaskier’s face had also faded. Geralt looked at Jaskier and felt his heart clench painfully. He knew how he felt about Jaskier but he could only hope that Jaskier still felt the same way. And if he didn’t Geralt didn’t know what he would do.

……..

“Dr Regis said I could go home tomorrow.” Jaskier said, eyes fixed on the blanket on his lap. He didn’t want to go back to that shitty hotel. He’d paid the hotel manager to keep his belongings in storage ready for when Jaskier came back but the thought of returning to a place where he was alone again filled Jaskier with dread. He knew it wasn’t fair expect Geralt’s company but he had grown used to it these last few days. He had missed the silent brooding man and the thought of not getting to see him every day killed him. 

“Where are staying?” Geralt asked and Jaskier just shrugged non committedly. He didn’t want to admit to Geralt that he’d been living in a hotel. Didn’t want to cause Geralt anymore pain than he already had.

“How’s Ciri?” Jaskier asked instead. Geralt frowned at Jaskier but allowed the subject change.

“She misses you.” Guilt washed over Jaskier. He’d never had the chance to explain any of this to Ciri and he just knew Geralt’s daughter would hate him for it.

“I’m sorry.” Jaskier whispered. Geralt took both of Jaskier’s hands in his own, amber eyes fixed on Jaskier with concern.

“This wasn’t your fault.” Geralt said but Jaskier shook his head.

“I shouldn’t have just left like that.” Jaskier retorted. He had literally vanished from his families lives and that wasn’t anyone but Jaskier’s fault.

“I shouldn’t have kicked you out like that.” Geralt growled, guilt running over his face.

“You couldn’t have known.” Jaskier argued, tracing a finger along Geralt’s jaw. “No one knew.”

“They all fucking knew.” Geralt growled. “Vesemir took one look at that picture of you and Marx and he knew you weren’t there by fucking choice. I should have trusted you.” 

“And I should have trusted you. All of you.” Jaskier smiled at Geralt’s confused face. “I accepted so easily that you had all left me. I didn’t try to fight it I just let it happen and I’m so sorry for that.”

“Stop apologising.” Geralt growled. “We forgave you the instant we found out why you left.” Geralt squeezed Jaskier’s hands softly. “Where are you staying when you get out of the hospital?”

Jaskier dropped his gaze back to the blanket over his leg, blushing as he answered. “I was staying in a hotel.” Guilt flashed across Geralt’s face and Jaskier instantly said, “It’s not your fault. I just never had time to move to a flat.”

“I shouldn’t have kicked you out.” Geralt growled.

“I don’t blame you so stop blaming yourself.” Jaskier answered.

“Stay with us.” Geralt grunted. “Please. Come home.” And Jaskier wanted so desperately to come home that he felt himself tearing up at the prospect.

“I never stopped loving you Geralt.” Jaskier whispered, pain lacing through his heart. Here would come the rejection. Geralt would prove hat everything he had done was out of obligation, not love. But Geralt didn’t let go of Jaskier’s hands. Instead he turned shock filled amber eyes to Jaskier. “I’m sorry, Geralt. I know you and Ciri would have moved on by now and I don’t want to impose.”

“Shut up.” Geralt grunted, amber eyes fixed on Jaskier. “I love you too. I always did. I didn’t move on. We’ve been waiting for 7 months for you to come home so please. Come home.” And how could Jaskier say no to that.

…….

Regis directed Geralt and Jaskier to the back exit of the hospital the day of Jaskier’s release. Geralt kept Jaskier tucked into his side as the musician walked next to him. Geralt could see the pain crossed across Jaskier’s face as his ribs jostled at the slow footsteps they took. Someone had leaked Jaskier’s whereabouts to the press and the outside of the hospital was a mob of fans waiting to catch a glimpse of the famous singer. Marx, no doubt.

Jaskier had received a few texts from his label, asking what was happening but Jaskier had ignored them all. Something Geralt was eternally grateful for. If never saw the bastards that had put this much pressure on Jaskier again he’d die happy. “Thank you for this.” Jaskier smiled at Regis who smiled back. Jaskier had Geralt’s jacket draped over him and a pair of sunglasses on his face. Not the best disguise but Geralt hoped the fans wouldn’t think to look for Jaskier at the back of the hospital.

“Take care of yourself Jaskier.” Regis said, smiling softly. Geralt shook the man’s hand as they exited. Regis was a good man if only for the fact he’d helped Jaskier. The media had been overrun by that picture of Jaskier and while Yennefer had succeeded in taking it down from a few sites it had just kept cropping up. Jaskier had deemed it a losing battle with a brittle sad smile when she’d told him. Geralt hated the way Jaskier just seemed to accept the blatant interruption to his private life like that.

Jaskier stayed pressed to Geralt’s side as they made their way to the car park where Geralt’s car was. Geralt cursed the fact he hadn’t been able to bring the car to the hospital to pick Jaskier up but with the mob outside there had been no where to park it without someone seeing Jaskier and recognising him. The last thing Jaskier needed right now was an attack from well-meaning fans. Jaskier had had Yennefer contact his label and offer refunds to all the fans that had missed his last show because of Jaskier’s collapse. Geralt had seen Jaskier scrolling through his phone a few times and seen the sad look on Jaskier’s face. Sufficed to say the comments fans had about Jaskier’s cancelling of the last show and the release of the picture hadn’t painted Jaskier in a good light. While some fans were full of sympathy there had been some less than kind comments. Geralt had finally taken Jaskier’s phone off him last night when Jaskier had nearly burst into tears reading comments on his twitter were a troll had called Jaskier a “Slutty diva who didn’t give 2 fucks about his fans.” Geralt wanted to find whoever had posted that and kill them with his bare hands.

When they finally got to the car, Jaskier looked ready to drop so it wasn’t a surprise that within 10 minutes of the journey he had fallen asleep. Geralt purposely drove in silence, not willing to switch on the radio and hear whatever was being discussed about Jaskier there. He’d called Eskel and Lambert from the hospital and they had gone to the hotel Jaskier had been staying at after Geralt kicked him out to collect Jaskier’s things. It had taken Yennefer to get Jaskier’s suitcase and guitar he’d taken on tour from the label. They hadn’t been willing to give the items to complete strangers but Yennefer was Jaskier’s lawyer so could take the belongings on Jaskier’s behalf. It still hurt that Jaskier had been living in a hotel rather than a flat and the thought of Jaskier staying there had Geralt’s heart breaking in his chest. None of this was fair. Jaskier had deserved so much more.

Jaskier startled awake when Geralt switched the car off. “Ciri?” He asked softly, blinking bleary eyes at Geralt. He was doing a lot better since waking from his collapse but Geralt could still see the exhaustion behind Jaskier’s eyes.

“Yennefer’s. She’ll be back tomorrow. And Vesemir invited us all to his house Sunday.” Jaskier nodded, eyes dropping to his lap. “You included Jask.” Geralt assured, squeezing Jaskier’s hand softly. “You never left the family and we’ve missed you. All of us.” Jaskier just nodded, eyes tearing up at the thought of seeing his family again.

Geralt led Jaskier into the house and watched with guilt as Jaskier looked around the house. “You didn’t change anything?” Jaskier asked softly and Geralt shook his head. How could he? Jaskier had been the one to really make this a home and now Jaskier was finally back in it Geralt felt like it was a proper home again.

“What do you want to do?” Geralt asked, noting the exhausted slump in Jaskier’s shoulders.

“I don’t mind.” Jaskier mumbled. “Movie and pizza?” Jaskier asked, blue eyes wide with uncertainty and Geralt hated that Jaskier who had never been uncertain before in his entire fucking life looked it now. Geralt grunted in answer, glad when Jaskier smiled softly. “Can I have a shower first?” Jaskier asked.

“This is your home, Jask.” Geralt said, wrapping a gentle arm around Jaskier’s shoulder. “You don’t have to ask.” Jaskier nodded his head, eyes still uncertain.

While Jaskier was gone, Geralt went about getting the pizza cooked and put one of the sappy romantic comedy’s that he knew Jaskier loved into the DVD player ready to play. By the time Jaskier came down, dressed in a pair of Geralt’s old gym joggers and shirts everything was ready. Jaskier looked uncertain as he stood at the entrance to the living room, eyes glued to the floor. Geralt came over and wrapped Jaskier into a warm hug, smelling the scent of strawberry shampoo in Jaskier’s hair.

“You ok?” Geralt asked and felt Jaskier gently shake his head against Geralt’s chest. “That’s ok. You don’t have to be.” Geralt grunted and he felt Jaskier sag against him. “Come on. Food and a movie. It’ll make you feel better.”

Jaskier let Geralt guide them to the sofa and when Geralt had settled himself down Jaskier hesitantly leant against Geralt’s side, head resting against Geralt’s neck. Geralt wrapped an arm around Jaskier’s shoulders, still bony from weight loss. As Jaskier snuggled into Geralt’s side, Geralt could almost pretend nothing bad had ever happened. That Valdo Marx had never come into their lives. Almost.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of rape non con elements in the first few paragraphs of this. Please do not read if uncomfortable.

Marx’s hand caressed Jaskier’s back softly, lips kissing up Jaskier’s spine as he lay sobbing into the mattress. The scrap of Marx’s jeans against Jaskier’s bare legs made Jaskier cringe understanding how vulnerable he was compared to this man. How vulnerable he always was. “Don’t cry songbird. I’ll make it good.” Marx kissed Jaskier tenderly on his cheek, nibbling at the skin there. Jaskier just continued sobbing. He wanted to stop this. He didn’t want any of this. Except he couldn’t stop it. Not without hurting Geralt. Jaskier was at the mercy of this man completely and utterly and it terrified him.

“Ready songbird.” Marx bit down on Jaskier’s ear as he moved backwards. The rustle of fabric and Jaskier sobbed harder at the knowledge of what was about to happen. His whole body tensed in readiness and then………

……And then Jaskier felt arms gently shaking him. Geralt’s deep voice calling “Jaskier. Jaskier wake up.” Jaskier felt his breath stutter in his chest as his eyes flung open. He wasn’t in the hotel rooms with Marx. Marx wasn’t here. Geralt was here.

Jaskier felt tears run down his face and he sobbed brokenly, letting Geralt wrap him into a warm embrace. Jaskier’s head ended up resting on Geralt’s chest, Geralt pressing a soft kiss to Jaskier’s head. His hand stroked Jaskier’s back as Jaskier sobbed into Geralt’s chest. “It’s ok Jask.” And Jaskier wanted to believe him wanted to believe that everything was going to be but how could he.

The risk to Geralt was gone and the relief that his beloved Geralt was a weight of Jaskier’s chest. But everything else in Jaskier’s life had gone to shit. Those pictures. Fuck, those pictures Marx had taken after he had raped Jaskier. After he had brutalised him. It was bad enough that those pictures where out there but the press, his fans, didn’t call Jaskier a victim. No, better that they had. Instead those pictures where being used to brand Jaskier a slut. A slut and a whore who had wanted those pictures to be taken. Some of the harsher tweets had said Jaskier had posted them himself in a desperate attempt to stay relevant. Wasn’t it bad enough that Jaskier had lost his dignity to that man now he was being branded a whore by the whole world. It hurt.

“Jask, talk to me love.” Geralt murmured, stroking Jaskier’s hair softly. 

“I don’t deserve this.” Jaskier whispered into Geralt’s chest.

“Why not?” Geralt asked and Jaskier just sobbed brokenly. 

“I hurt you. I hurt all of you.”

“And we’ve already forgiven you.” Geralt whispered, repeating the words from the hospital.

“You’re not ashamed.” Jaskier whispered brokenly. “Those pictures Geralt. That’s me. Fuck that’s me and the whole world’s seen it. Shit.” Jaskier swore, mind reeling as he thought of something he hadn’t even considered. “Ciri, please tell me Ciri hasn’t seen them.” Geralt’s silence was answer enough and Jaskier sobbed harshly at the thought of the girl he thought of ash is daughter seeing him like that. “I’m so sorry Geralt. This is all my fault.”

“Stop that.” Geralt growled gruffly. Jaskier lifted puffy eyes to Geralt’s amber eyes. “None of this is your fault. You didn’t ask to be raped. You didn’t ask for Marx to take those fucking pictures. You didn’t ask for those pictures to be released. No one blames you. Least of all Ciri. Yennefer said she was more upset because she was afraid you’d been hurt. Listen to me Jask, no one blames you and we were all worried about you.”

“I didn’t meant for any of this to happen.” Jaskier mumbled and Geralt just grunted.

“This wasn’t your fault Jask. I don’t care how many times I have to say it to make you believe it because this wasn’t your fault.” And Jaskier wished that he could believe it. He truly did.

………………..

Jaskier finally drifted back to sleep against Geralt[s chest but Geralt couldn’t sleep. The anger that had been bubbling in him for months was threatening to explode and the only thing keeping him from breaking something right now was the fact Jaskier needed him. Geralt had never seen Jaskier this upset. Fuck Valdo Marx. If Geralt ever got his hands on him he would kill that bastard for making Jaskier feel like this. For making Jaskier feel like this was his fault. It wasn’t. Geralt knew Jaskier was the victim in all this, not to blame but Jaskier wouldn’t accept that.

When Yennefer had phoned Geralt the morning that fucking photo was released (Jaskier still blissfully asleep in the hospital bed) Geralt had nearly thrown his phone across the room. Ciri. His daughter had seen those fucking pictures. The only saving grace was that she hadn’t registered what they really meant. She had been too focused on the idea that someone had done something so horrible as to send private photo’s of Jaskier out in the world. Ciri had been more worried about Jaskier.

Ciri had been asking to visit Jaskier since they’d found out he was in the hospital but Yennefer had thankfully been able to keep her at bay. Jaskier was still recovering and Geralt didn’t want to push to much on his plate. But Ciri lived here and he knew Jaskier had missed Ciri so there was no keeping them separate now. 

But the dinner Sunday. That was only 4 days away and Geralt wasn’t convinced Jaskier would be able to handle it. He was too fragile right now and Geralt knew his family was a lot. But as Vesemir had said they were all worried. They all wanted to see Jaskier and Geralt knew Jaskier wanted to see them to. So he had agreed to the Sunday dinner, thinking if Jaskier needed to leave he could always take him home.

Jaskier whimpered softly in his sleep and Jaskier stroked Jaskier’s hair gently, willing his love to sleep. It wasn’t fair for Jaskier to be suffering because of what Marx had done. None of it was fair. None of this should have ever happened to Jaskier. And it was so much worse because Geralt hadn’t been able to do anything about it.

………

Jaskier played nervously with the hem of his shirt as he sat on the sofa, trying to concentrate on the words in the book he’d picked up. Geralt was on the kitchen table, running through the books for the bar. He kept glancing up every few minutes to check on Jaskier. Yennefer was dropping Ciri off in, Jaskier did a quick check of the clock and counted, 13 minutes. Fuck.

Jaskier placed the book down now, knowing he wasn’t fooling Geralt in his pretend reading. He had missed Ciri as much as he missed Geralt and from what he understood from Geralt Ciri had missed him to. But Jaskier had no idea how Ciri would react to finally seeing him again after all this time. It had been 7 months. He had been out of her lie for 7 months. Would she still see him in the same way? Would she still consider him her family? Would she want him out of her home? Jaskier hated the suspense and the not knowing. He didn’t think he could bare it if Ciri hated him, even though he deserved it.

When the doorbell went, Jaskier jumped in his seat. “You ok?” Geralt grunted as he got up to answer the door. Jaskier just nodded, not trusting his voice as he stood. The last 4 days rest had done wonders for Jaskier’s sore throat and Jaskier’s was no longer croaky though he didn’t think it was a good idea to do any singing for a while. Not that he would be, Jaskier thought and was surprised to find he felt…relieved at that thought.

Before Jaskier could consider that thought, a blonde head of hair ran at Jaskier and threw their arms around him. Jaskier felt his knees sink to the floor as he returned the hug Ciri had given him, not caring that the mess of ash blonde hair got in his mouth and eyes as Ciri cried into his shoulder. “I missed you Jask.” She sobbed, holding on tightly. His bruised ribs protested the hard grip she had on him but Jaskier ignored them, not willing to let go of Ciri just yet.

Ciri had grown in the 7 months Jaskier had been gone. She would be nearly 11 now, just shy of 2 months away. “I missed you to Ciri.” Jaskier whispered, feeling tears run down his own face as he hugged Ciri as tightly as he could. They stayed like that for a long time before Ciri finally released Jaskier.

“How are you feeling?” She asked, concern brimming in her voice and Jaskier felt guilt well up in him for making Ciri worried.

“Just fine.” Jaskier smiled, wiping the tears away from Ciri’s face with his thumb. “I’ve bet I’ve missed a lot. Why don’t you give me a run through?” Jaskier smiling getting to his feet. Ciri nodded enthusiastically, dragging Jaskier over to the couch. Jaskier let her, smile on her face as he sat down and Ciri glued herself to Jaskier’s side. He threw an arm around her shoulder, pulling his surrogate daughter to his side and burying his face against the blonde hair there.

Ciri giggled, wiggling in Jaskier’s grip. Jaskier was glad she’d glued herself to the opposite side of his bruised ribs as she got herself comfortable in Jaskier’s one armed hug. “So, Dara asked me to be his valentine and he made me this really nice card. It had bright pink hearts all over it. When I showed dad he threatened to disembowel Dara.” Jaskier chuckled. That was a very Geralt thing to do to threaten a 10 year old for hitting on his daughter. “And we got a new English Teacher, Mr Mousesack. He’s brilliant.”

Jaskier listened with rapt interest as Ciri slowly filled him in on the last 7 months he’d missed with her. The fear Jaskier had been feeling that Ciri would hate him evaporated the longer Ciri sat glued to his side, talking as if Jaskier had only been away for a few weeks rather than 7 months.

……

“How is he?” Yennefer asked softly. Geralt tore his gaze away from Jaskier and Ciri sitting on the couch. Ciri was stuck to Jaskier’s side, a grin plastered on her face as she talked and Jaskier looked more relaxed than he had since waking up in hospital.

“I don’t know Yenn. He blames himself for all this. Won’t accept that it wasn’t his fault.” Geralt grunted. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Just keep doing what you’re doing.” Yennefer said, squeezing Geralt’s arm softly. “Keep reminding him that it’s not his fault. That you’re here for him. He’ll believe it eventually.” Geralt didn’t want to admit that he didn’t know if he believed that.

“And the case against Marx?” Yennefer sighed angrily.

“Denying everything. Claiming Jaskier wanted all of it. He’s fighting the pictures to. Sticking to the story that Jaskier let him take those pictures and someone stole his phone. I’ve got a few testimonies against Marx already, all saying the same stuff as Jaskier. But at the end of the day it’s Jaskier’s words against Marx. There’s no physical evidence saying Marx ever hurt Jaskier.”

“Is there anything else we can do?” Geralt asked, concern flooding through him. If Marx got off, it would hurt Jaskier. Marx needed to be punished.

“No. Just look after Jaskier. Keep him away from social media.” Yennefer shook her head slowly. “A lot of it’s sympathetic but there’s still a lot of negative stuff out there.”

“I know.” Geralt growled. Jaskier’s so called fans were turning against their favourite singer in the face of those photo’s. “None of this is fair Yenn.”

“I know.” Yennefer said, violet eyes moving to where Jaskier was laughing at something Ciri had said. He looked so happy with Ciri. Not like the shell of himself he’d been these last few days. A kindling of hope burnt in Geralt’s chest. Maybe there was hope that Jaskier would get better. Maybe. 

……

Sunday rolled around quicker than Jaskier was prepared for. It had strange coming back home. Ciri has been clinging to Jaskier every moment, as if she was afraid he would leave again and that thought broke Jaskier’s heart. Geralt was always watching Jaskier, worry written all over his face whenever Jaskier winced from the pain in his ribs.

Nightmares had plagued Jaskier most nights since returning home, remembering the way he had lost control of his whole life to Marx. Geralt had wrapped him in warm embraces while Jaskier cried against his chest. Guilt had made a permanent home in Jaskier’s chest. It wasn’t fair for Geralt to have to comfort him when all this was Jaskier’s fault. If he’d just told the truth the first time Marx hit him none of this would have happened. It didn’t matter that Geralt kept telling him this wasn’t his fault because that was how Jaskier felt.

Jaskier had finally answered the calls from his label yesterday while Geralt was taking Ciri to school. David had answered and his first words had set the tone for the short phone call. “What did you do Jaskier? Valdo was brilliant for you why did you just drop him like that? Your lawyer said Valdo was hurting you but come on Jaskier, no one saw anything.” 

“Because no one gives two shits about me short of how much money I can make them.” Jaskier had yelled back anger running through him.

“Come into the office today, we’ll sort through a comeback plan for all this.” David had sighed. “You’re still our number one asset and we can still work through this. Apologise to Valdo and we can all move past this. Get you back on top again. It’ll be like none of this happened.”

Jaskier had felt anger run through him the more David talked. Apologies. To Marx. Of all fucking people. That man had ruined his life. “I quit.” Jaskier said, voice cold.

“You can’t just quite. No other label will touch you.” David argued but Jaskier was past caring now. He didn’t want this anymore. It wasn’t worth it. None of this was worth it.

“I don’t care. I’m done. Don’t call me again.” And before the label’s manager could argue Jaskier hung up. When Geralt had returned home, Jaskier hadn’t moved from where he had collapsed on the sofa, staring at his phone wondering what the hell he had just done.

“Jaskier?” Geralt asked, voice filled with concern as he dropped on the couch next to Jaskier.

“I quit.” Jaskier said, voice full of disbelief and relief. “I quit.” 

“You did?” Geralt asked, eyes wide with relief as he pulled Jaskier into a hug. “Why?”

“It wasn’t worth it.” Jaskier whispered into Geralt’s chest. “It was never worth it.” And Geralt had replaced in his hold of Jaskier, seemingly breathing out a sigh of relief. Jaskier couldn’t help but feel the same way.

It had taken Jaskier longer than usual to chose clothes to go to Vesemir’s for dinner. He’d lost a lot of weight, meaning the clothes he usually wore were too lose fitting on him and to be honest Jaskier didn’t know if he wanted to wear them. He had always loved flamboyant bright colours but these last few years Jaskier had tailored his wardrobe more to what he thought people wanted to see him dressed in rather than what he wanted to wear. The thought of wearing clothes that he had bought to please other people left him feeling numb. So Jaskier had taken out an old pair of tattered jeans from the bottom of his wardrobe, having to fix a belt to keep the jeans from falling down his smaller waist and a bright blue shirt which Geralt had always liked even though the colour was faded. The clothes swamped Jaskier’s slimmer frame and Jaskier felt himself willing to gain the weight he’d lost faster. He hated looking in the mirror and seeing his gaunt face staring back at him. It was a physical reminder along with the still fading bruises and healed ribs of what Marx had done.

“Perfect.” Geralt grumbled, wrapping Jaskier into a warm hug and burying his nose into Jaskier’s hair. Jaskier let himself rest his head on Geralt’s shoulder, breathing in the scent that was just all Geralt.

“We should get going.” Jaskier whispered. He didn’t want to be late, not when he was already feeling nervous enough about seeing Geralt, his, family again after all these months.

“We don’t have to go if you’re not ready.” Geralt murmured.

“I know.” Jaskier whispered. But he wanted to go. He’d missed them. Geralt grunted before releasing Jaskier from his hold. Jaskier sighed, pulling on his converses and grabbing his coat against the nip that was still in the late March air before following Geralt to the car.

As Geralt pulled the car into Vesemir’s driveway, Jaskier felt more nervous than he had been the day he had first met them all. His leg jumped up and down and in a parallel of that day Geralt turned to Jaskier with warm amber eyes and said, “You can still say no, they won’t mind.”

“I know.” Jaskier said, smiling softly back. “But I want to.” Geralt looked at Jaskier for a second longer before grunting and getting out of the car. Jaskier followed, nerves running through him as Geralt pushed the front door open.

The first person to greet them, obviously, was Ciri. Jaskier expected her to hug Geralt first but instead Ciri bounded over to Jaskier and wrapped her arms around Jaskier’s waist. She was nearly as high as Jaskier’s mid chest now and Jaskier felt guilt well up remembering that 7 months ago she’d only just come up to his waist. He’d missed so much.

Yennefer followed, pulling Jaskier into a warm hug as Ciri tackled Geralt. Geralt grunted, laughing at the force of Ciri’s hug and Jaskier found himself smiling at the interaction. “You ok?” Yennefer asked, squeezing Jaskier’s arm softly. Jaskier nodded in answer.

“Jaskier.” Triss’ mess of brown hair appeared in the hall way. Her eyes shined as she saw him large smile fixed on her face. “Thank God you’re here. I swear I couldn’t take Lambert helping me anymore.”

“Fuck of Merigold.” Lambert grunted, coming up behind her. Jaskier felt nerves overrun him as Lambert fixed Jaskier with an unreadable expression before a huge grin ran over his face. “Good to see you.” Lambert grunted.

As Jaskier walked towards them, Triss pulled him into a huge hug, tears in her eyes as she pulled him close. She help him there for a few minutes before leaning back and saying, “Seriously though I need you in that kitchen. It’s been hell without you here.”

“It’s true. No one else can keep up with Yenn’s snark.” Lambert grinned, clapping Jaskier hesitantly on the shoulder. Jaskier offered Lambert a smile and that seemed to help as Lambert laughed loudly, squeezing Jaskier’s shoulder.

“That’s because you haven’t got the brains to keep up.” Yennefer retorted, grinning at Jaskier as she pushed past Geralt’s brother on her way to the living room. Jaskier followed, Lambert’s hand still grasped on his shoulder. 

“Good to see you Jaskier. Might finally get Geralt to crack a smile around here now.” Eskel grinned, taking a hold of Jaskier’s other shoulder in a friendly grip matching Lamberts. Jaskier could swear he could see tears in the face of Geralt’s older brother.

Jaskier’s eyes turned to Vesemir, sitting in his usual armchair and smiling warmly at Jaskier. “It’s good to see you Jaskier. We all missed you.” Jaskier felt himself smiling, the nerves disappearing as he stood surrounded by his family. They had missed him. They still cared for him.

……

“You ok?” Eskel grunted as he, Vesemir, Lambert and Geralt sat in the living room. Jaskier had been dragged into the kitchen by an over enthusiastic Triss and unimpressed Yennefer, Ciri following close behind, to help with dinner preparation.

“Yeah.” Geralt grunted. He felt more at ease than he had in months. Seeing Jaskier interacting with their family warmed his heart. 

“He seems tired.” Vesemir stated, eyes drifting to the open kitchen door. They could hear Triss’ and Ciri’s voice filtering from the kitchen and it pained Geralt’s heart to not hear Jaskier’s voice. Not yet at least. Jaskier was still a lot quieter than it had been and it was unnerving for Geralt not to hear Jaskier’s voice filling any sort of quiet. But it was enough right now just to know Jaskier was here.

“He’s better.” Geralt said honestly. Jaskier had come on in leaps and bounds these last few days. He wasn’t the Jaskier he had been over 7 months ago but he wasn’t the Jaskier that had woken from his collapse either. 

“It’ll take time. He went through a lot.” Eskel noted.

“Bastard Marx is. I’ll fucking wring his neck in.” Lambert growled and Geralt couldn’t help but agree.

“It’s enough that he’s here.” Vesemir said. “It’s enough right now that he’s back with us. He’ll get better soon enough but right now we all have to be there for him.” Lambert and Eskel grunted their agreement and Geralt sent Vesemir a grateful smile. Knowing his family would be there for Jaskier helped.

…….

Jaskier was silent as dinner ran through. The familiar noise from his family running over him. Geralt kept a hold of Jaskier’s hand, offering silent comfort as Jaskier let the sounds and happiness of his family was over him. It was nice. Jaskier had missed it. The pit of loneliness he had been feeling for the last 7 months was slowly starting to abate as Jaskier felt the familiar wrappings of his family surround him.

None of them mentioned Jaskier’s disappearance. Instead they set about giving Jaskier the details on what he had missed from the last 7 months worth of Sunday dinners he had missed. Apparently Triss had let Lambert help cook during one and the kitchen had nearly burnt down. The shrug Lambert had given had had Jaskier burst into laughter and he hadn’t missed the relieved looks crossing all the eyes of his family when he laughed.

“I’m glad your here.” Vesemir said, taking Jaskier’s hand in his as they sat in the living room. Ciri, Lambert and Triss were sat around the board game Candyland, Eskel laughing as Lambert cursed the game to lowest pit of hell as he lost. Yenenfer was watching with an amused smirk and Geralt was smiling as well. “We all missed you.”

“I’m sorry I was gone so long.” Jaskier said, dropping his eyes to the ground. Vesemir just squeezed Jaskier’s hand softly.

“No one blames you. But regardless we’re glad you’re back. We’re glad you’re safe.” And Jaskier couldn’t help but smile at the warm affectionate look in the older man’s eyes.

He was safe. Safe and protected surrounded by his family. By people who cared about him. And while Jaskier was no where near better he was happy. Surrounded by his family, the pit of loneliness that had surrounded him for months finally gone, Jaskier was happy. And right now that was all that mattered.


	20. Chapter 20

It was early July, a week to the start of the trial against Marx, and the news had finally leaked to the media. Jaskier knew exactly how this had happened because the newsfeed he was currently reading wasn’t exactly flattering of him. A specific unnamed source (Marx, Jaskier was sure) had claimed he used to work close with Jaskier during the world tour and claimed the famous singer had been an utter diva who demanded the most ridiculous things, partied nearly every night and had a new man in his bed nearly every night. When Geralt had seen it, the white-haired man had been brimming with anger but Jaskier was resigned. He knew this would happen eventually. The only bonus was Marx hadn’t been stupid enough to mention Geralt in these articles. Yennefer had obviously done a good job of scaring the man off.

Jaskier had barely left the house in the last 3 months. The furthest he’d travelled was Vesemir’s house for the Sunday dinners and the lake. Well, he’d travelled to the lake once. It had been a Saturday and Geralt had been at the bar all day and Ciri had been with Yennefer and well, Jaskier had been bored. So he’d decided to go for a walk. It was nearly 3 weeks after he’d collapsed backstage and Jaskier hadn’t left the house except for Vesemir’s dinners in those whole 3 weeks. His bruised ribs were mostly healed and Jaskier felt more rested than he had in months. He was still too thin, a fact that had Geralt growling with anger whenever he caught sight of Jaskier having to hoist his jeans up because the once skin tight skinny jeans where now falling down. But he was getting better. He was slowly gaining the weight he had lost and the home gym Geralt had was helping him get the defined muscle that had gone along with the weight back. It was a slow process but he was getting there. He and Geralt hadn’t had sex since Jaskier had returned. Jaskier hadn’t been ready, still remembering the way Marx had forced himself on him, the memories still making Jaskier shiver whenever he and Geralt went to far in their kissing. But Geralt understood and never pushed Jaskier to do anything he wasn’t ready for.

And the nightmares had nearly stopped. They still came and Jaskier had to catch himself sometimes when he started to think how much time he had missed with Ciri and Geralt. The fact Ciri would be starting senior school especially hurt. The last time he had seen her she had just been finishing her second to last year in primary school. He’d missed so much.

So Jaskier decided he was well enough for a walk to the small lake that had been his sanctuary for years now. The place he had met Geralt which was so secluded and quiet Jaskier knew he wouldn’t have to worry about being recognised because the chances of actually seeing anyone there were slim to none. So he put on a pair of faded 3 quarter length jeans and a dark red shirt which he’d had since college, coupled with dark sunglasses Jaskier knew even if there was anyone there they wouldn’t recognise him as Jaskier. Except, of course nothing in Jaskier’s life had gone to plan for 8 months now so why would this.

Jaskier had sat on the bench he had first met Geralt, enjoying the quiet and tranquil peace of the lake. He had missed it here and he could feel himself relaxing in the early spring sun when a rustle in the leaves and a flash of blinding light. Jaskier blinked in confusion as a man stood in front of him, camera in hand smile in place as he snapped Jaskier’s confused face from the bench. “Jaskier, can I ask where you’ve been hiding the last few weeks? We’ve heard rumours that you collapsed backstage because you were assaulted. Can you confirm that?” Jaskier just sat dumbfounded as the man asked questions.

“I…” Jaskier stuttered.

“There’s rumours going around that the person who leaked those photos was your lover? Do you have anything to say about those?” Jaskier’s hands shook as he staggered to his feet, backing away. The man didn’t seem to notice that Jaskier obviously didn’t want to talk as he followed Jaskier as he backed away. “Are you staying around here? Did you come here to hide because you’re ashamed of the pictures? Is that why you left your label?” The reporter asked, camera flashing again as he took another picture.

Jaskier felt like a rabbit in the headlights so he did the only thing he could do. He ran. Jaskier had no idea where he ended up when he finally stopped, panting from the exertion, ribs aching in pain. He dropped to his knees, tears running down his face as he collapsed with his back against a tree. The lake had always been a peaceful place. Somewhere Jaskier could go without fear of the paparazzi finding him but now…fucking hell they were so close to Geralt’s home as well. If that reporter started to look, if others came, it would be so obvious for them to find Jaskier.

Geralt had come home that night to find Jaskier in their bedroom, huddled under the duvet sobbing quietly as he read the newest article the reporter had published. “Don’t read it.” Geralt whispered, taking the phone from Jaskier’s shaking hands and wrapping Jaskier into a tight hug as he climbed into the bed. Jaskier just shook in Geralt’s arms. The picture the reporter had used had backed up the articles whole premise: that Jaskier had finally cracked, the pressure of fame becoming too much for him. And maybe it had. 

Reporters had circled the area for weeks afterwards. When they had tried to knock on Geralt’s door to ask if the white-haired man had seen Jaskier, Geralt had scared them off with his signature growl and glare. They hadn’t come near the house since. That hadn’t stopped Jaskier from refusing to leave the house again. He had finally relented for dinner at Vesemir’s but otherwise, Jaskier refused to leave. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. Geralt had told him not to go on social media but he couldn’t help it and had done it anyway. There wasn’t a person on social media not talking about how Jaskier had finally cracked. Some of the comments were concerned fans, asking if he was ok but the majority were pegging Jaskier as a spoilt star who was throwing a temper tantrum because of a few pictures. It hurt.

Ciri’s birthday a few weeks had given Jaskier a great distraction. It was his only saving grace that his relationship with Geralt and Ciri had survived Jaskier’s disappearance from their last 7 months. In fact the relationship with his whole family seemed to have survived it if the fact Lambert, Eskel, Vesemir, Triss and even Yennefer made a point of visiting Jaskier more than they had ever done previously. 

Jaskier had baked a cake specifically for Ciri’s birthday and had wrapped all the presents Geralt ad he had bought diligently. They’d gone up to Vesemir’s home to decorate the house with balloons and banners, Lambert having to be physically restrained by his two brothers to stop him taking a bit of the cake before Ciri got there. It had been a wonderful day and Jaskier had seen the happiness in Geralt’s eyes as Jaskier started to come out of his shell around their family again. He wasn’t nearly as loud as he had been on previous years but the company and atmosphere did a lot to help Jaskier smile and laugh more than he had since returning to their lives.

And now Jaskier felt like he’d been punched in the stomach and all the progress he thought he’d made in the last 3 months had been ripped away from him. “This isn’t right.” Geralt growled and Jaskier was thankful it was a weekend and Ciri was at Yennefer’s.

“Geralt, please love just ignore it.” Jaskier said, knowing Geralt couldn’t. Geralt wasn’t used to the scrutiny Jaskier had been under for the last 5 years. He had seen somethings but because he didn’t see the weekly cruel trolls on social media that sent cruel tweets and messages to Jaskier like clockwork he didn’t see this as an ordinary thing. Unfortunately, Jaskier was too used to being under a microscope, his every move discussed and analysed by people who had no hope of knowing him.

“Who the fuck gets off on posting this?” Geralt growled, pacing angrily across the living room floor. As soon as the article had been published, detailing the reasons behind Jaskier’s court case against his former manager, things about Jaskier’s personal life had crept out from the woodworks. One particular ex of Jaskier’s, Anna Henrietta, who Jaskier had had a rather heated on again off again relationship with throughout University had thrown her own opinion on the matter. Specifically detailing a few of their more adventurous love makings. Jaskier had turned bright red as he read the intimate details the little Weasel had provided to the interviewer.

“Geralt, please just ignore it.” Jaskier begged. He didn’t want to talk about the way his personal life was being talked about in every part of the world.

“They’re calling you a whore.” Geralt seethed. “They’re saying you wanted it. That you wanted to be raped.”

“Geralt, stop it.” Jaskier shouted, finally getting Geralt’s attention as the white-haired man span around. Jaskier felt tears run through him, shame lying heavy on his stomach. “Please.” Jaskier’s voice dropped to a quiet whisper. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry Jask.” Geralt whispered, dropping to the sofa and gathering Jaskier into his arms.

“This is going to get so much worse.” Jaskier whispered as Geralt stroked Jaskier’s hair. “I don’t know if I can handle this for much longer.”

“You can.” Geralt grunted, holding Jaskier tighter. “You’re the strongest person I know and you’ve got your family with you.”

“You’re not ashamed.” Jaskier whispered. “Some of the things they’re saying aren’t exactly false. The stuff I used to do in University.”

“Everyone experiments.” Geralt growled. “And none of us are ashamed. We’ve all done things we’re ashamed of.”

“It’s just your things don’t usually get plastered all over the news.” Jaskier laughed without humour.

“Jaskier, listen to me.” Geralt grunted, waiting until Jaskier had lifted his head so his blue eyes could meet Geralt’s amber ones. “You have nothing to be ashamed of and we won’t leave you to deal with this alone. I promise.” Jaskier smiled softly, relaxing against Geralt’s chest. Maybe with Geralt by his side he would be able to get through the next few weeks of Marx’s trial.

……

Tissaia de Vries was a terrifying woman. She had been Yennefer’s mentor when the violet eyed woman had first become a lawyer and Jaskier now understood where Yennefer got her skills from. When the crown prosecution had said Tissaia de Vries was going to take Jaskier’s case (Yennefer unable to as this was an actual criminal case rather than a business one) she had been thrilled. Viciously so.

Geralt was impressed as he sat in the public seating area with Eskel, Lambert and Vesemir; watching Tissaia de Vries wrap up her opening statement. Triss had volunteered to keep an eye on Ciri while they were at court. The school holiday’s had started and while Ciri had begged to be allowed to come to court Geralt had refused, not wanting his daughter here to see this. That and Ciri was too young to be allowed in, a fact that had helped Geralt and Yennefer’s argument with their young daughter immensely. Yennefer was sat with Tissaia de Vries, having spent the last 3 months assisting the prosecution with the case. Jaskier was in the witness area. Geralt had been furious when he’d been informed Jaskier wouldn’t be with them but Yennefer had calmed him down saying it was procedure. Jaskier may be the victim of the case but he was also a witness, meaning he had to sit with the other witnesses until he was called.

Marx stood watching the proceedings in an area separate the public and jury. When Geralt had walked in the con of a bitch had had the audacity to smirk at Geralt. Right now he was showing a concerned expression as his lawyer spoke, though his eyes still flashed under the lighting with laughter, as if he thought this was a whole fucking joke.

Vilgefortz, Marx’s lawyer started his opening statement and Geralt felt Lambert and Eskel tense next to him. Yennefer had warned them that the opening statement for the defence wouldn’t be kind towards Jaskier and she hadn’t been wrong. Geralt felt his fists clench at his sides as Vilgefortz described Jaskier as a troubled star who had fallen from grace and needed someone to blame for his mistakes. When Vilgefortz had been announced as Marx’s lawyer, Yennefer had sworn angrily. Apparently he was someone she knew and according to Yennefer he wasn’t just a complete bastard but he was also one of the best defence lawyers out there.

Over the next few hours, witnesses were called forwards and Geralt listened with growing anger. The first witness that was called was Dr Regis, Jaskier’s Doctor from the hospital and Tissaia had him describe the nature of Jaskier’s injuries.

“And you suggest that the bruises surrounding Mr Pankratz’s inner thighs were caused by rape?”

“Yes.” Dr Regis stated. “The pattern is similar to ones I’ve seen on other victims. Similarly, the bruises given to Mr Pankratz show signs of severe abuse. The placements of these bruises where meant to cause pain. For example the bruises on the arms are from harsh grips, most likely to force Mr Pankratz to do as the defendant wanted him to.”

Geralt could feel the anger of his brothers and Father sitting next to him as images of the dark bruises on Jaskier’s skin where shown on the screen. They had been taken while Jaskier had still been in the hospital and Geralt had seen them then, when Jaskier had asked him to stay while the police officers took the necessary photos. Geralt had seethed as he saw the extent of the bruise Marx had inflicted upon him. His arms and legs, torso and back covered in vicious bruises of multiple healing colours.

Vilgefortz stood as Tissaia sat, considering Regis a moment before asking, “Is it possible for these bruises to have come about in another way apart from rape or assault?”

Regis considered the answer for a moment before nodding his head. “Yes.”

“Can you explain how?” Vilgefortz asked before adding. “Is it possible that Mr Pankratz asked for the defendant to bruise him like this?”

“It is but in my experience…” 

“It is. Thank you that’s all my questions.” Vilgefortz interrupted, Marx smirking from his place in the defendant’s box, eyes flashing to Geralt as he did so. Regis seemed a bit lost on the witness box as he opened his mouth to say something but before he could the judge dismissed him.

Geralt felt himself seethe at the idea that Jaskier had asked for those bruises. How dare this man think Jaskier had wanted Marx to hurt him like that?

The next 2 days took on a similar pattern. The prosecution would call up witnesses against Marx and Vilgefortz would discredit everything they had said. One example was an ex model named Maria. She described her experience with Marx, detailing how the man had manipulated her throughout the few months he was her manager. How he had gotten hold of sex tapes she had made when still in College and used them to blackmail her into going into bed with her. 

And Vilgefortz had stood up and asked the one question that had changed the sympathetic jury to suspicious ones. “Can you confirm if you were taking drugs at the time of this alleged rape?”

“I…Yes I was.”

“And what substances were you taking?” Maria had dipped her head down and Geralt had felt his heart sink.

“Cocaine and heroin.”

“Do you remember these encounters you had with Mr Marx?” Vilgefortz asked.

Maria had shaken her head before being reminded by the judge to provide a verbal response. Quietly and with shame she had said, “No.”

“Then you could have been a willing participant in these encounters with Mr Marx?”

“Yes.” Maria had said with reluctance and Vilgefortz had said he had no more questions.

After the first day, Geralt stood in the corridor silently fuming flanked by Vesemir, Eskel and Lambert as they waited for Yennefer and Jaskier. As soon as Geralt had spotted Jaskier he had walked over and wrapped Jaskier in a large hug. Jaskier was pale and tried to offer Geralt a smile but he failed as he returned the hug.

“I’m sorry Geralt.” Yennefer said as she emerged from the crowd, violent eyes spinning angrily. “Fucking Vilgefortz. We knew he’d play dirty but that…”

“No need to lose our heads yet Yennefer.” Tissaia had stated, adjusting the sleeve of her jacket. “We knew this case would come down to Jaskier’s testimony and I assure you he is a much more reliable witness than most of these people.” Jaskier had paled considerably more in Geralt’s arms at that. “You’re the last witness we’ll call. Straight after Mr Marx. I’m hoping that if you recount exactly what Mr Marx did to you then the jury should be sympathetic.”

Yeah.” Jaskier had said, voice lacking confidence as he pressed closely to Geralt’s side.

“Yennefer, we should get some early prep in for tomorrow.” Tissaia had said and the two women had given their goodbyes before leaving.

A few members of the press were pointing towards were Jaskier was standing with Geralt’s arms wrapped around his arms. Jaskier seemed to press himself closer into Geralt’s side, burying his face into the white-haired mans bulky chest. Eskel and Lambert had growled, moving to stand in front of Jaskier so the reporters couldn’t see him.

“They’ll be waiting outside.” Jaskier’s voice was quiet and Geralt growled angrily, holding Jaskier closer. “You don’t have to come with me.” They had all discussed this week’s before they had come to court. None of them had been willing to let Jaskier go to court alone even thought Jaskier insisted he should. They all knew the reporters would be crawling around the court and there would be reporters inside the court house. The chances of Jaskier being pictured with the Rivia’s being pretty much certain if they came. And none of them had cared, none of them willing to let Jaskier deal with this alone.

“We’ve been through this Jaskier.” Vesemir said, voice filled with patience. “We’re not leaving you.”

“Yeah buttercup. You’re stuck with us.” Lambert growled. “And let one of those fuckers try and follow me I’ll break their fucking camera.” Lambert and Eskel shared vicious grins and Jaskier chuckled softly against Geralt’s side.

“And it’s not like they know who we are.” Eskel pointed out.

“Yeah, we could be your bodyguards.” Lambert grinned madly and Geralt felt Jaskier relax against his side. Even now Jaskier was trying to protect them.

The 5 of them walked outside together. Jaskier was pressed against Geralt’s side, Vesemir on his other side, Eskel behind and Lambert leading the way. Geralt felt sick to his stomach as Jaskier pressed against his side as Lambert pushed his way through the shouting reporters and flashing camera’s. Geralt had never seen this side of Jaskier’s life but the way these reporters surrounded them, pushing against the 4 of them to get at Jaskier made Geralt growl angrily. Jaskier didn’t seem phased, his face holding a neutral expression. But Geralt could tell this was hard for Jaskier as the musician pressed closer to him and his face grew paler as they pushed past the crowds.

“You ok?” Geralt asked when they had gotten in the car. Jaskier was pressed in the middle between Geralt and Lambert. A few braver reporters were pressed against the car as Eskel drove the car out of the parking lot, trying to get a picture. Geralt had to give it to them, they were braver than most people standing against the combined glares of the Rivia’s surrounding Jaskier.

“Yeah.” Jaskier lied, hands shaking in his lap. Geralt had taken the hands in his own, squeezing softly.

This had happened every morning and day for the last 2 days. As Geralt sat in the public seating area with Eskel, Lambert and Vesemir on the 3rd and final day he felt his chest tighten. Today Marx and Jaskier would testify. The nerves had been running through Jaskier all morning, hands shaking constantly and he hadn’t even bothered to hide his apprehension as he pressed close to Geralt that morning to get past the press. Geralt felt his heart break as Jaskier was taken towards the witness area.

Jaskier’s blue eyes had thrown themselves back at Geralt, worry flashing through them as he was led into a room to wait his turn in court. All of the last few days rode on Jaskier’s testimony. If the jury didn’t believe him then Marx would go free. But right now Geralt didn’t care about that. Seeing the worry and fear on Jaskier’s face, he just hoped that Jaskier would be able to handle this.


	21. Chapter 21

Geralt felt anger course through him as Marx stood in the witness box. Lambert and Eskel sitting on either side of Geralt bristled as the man’s eyes came to rest on them, smirk clear in them even as his face showed worry. “Mr Marx, could you please describe your relationship with Mr Pankratz?” Vilgefortz asked.

Marx’s eyes turned towards his lawyer. “The label brought me in to be Jaskier’s manager.”

“And what was your relationship like with Mr Pankratz?” Vilgefortz asked.

Marx seemed to consider this for a moment before answering. “At first it was good. Jaskier seemed like a nice guy. Nothing like most famous stars these days. We shared a bottle of wine when his newest album dropped.” Marx was silent for a moment, dropping his gaze to the floor and Geralt felt anger erupt in him, hands clenching angrily at the next words out of that bastard’s mouth. “He came onto me. He was drunk and I think he got the wrong idea when I said I’d stay with him to wait for the album drop. I pushed him away, I didn’t want to take advantage you see and he was my client.” Geralt seethed, take advantage, he thought, that bastard had taken advantage and then some of Jaskier.

Jaskier had told them about that night while Yennefer and Tissaia had been grilling him in preparation for the court case. The two women had wanted every detail and Jaskier’s interactions with Marx to build their case and Geralt had sat in on those meetings, Jaskier having asked him to be there. Geralt had known about Jaskier’s tradition with Priscilla after the album drop, where they sat in the label and drank and toasted the success with a whiskey. Jaskier had thought that Marx had just been being kind when he’d offered to stay, rather than let Jaskier drink alone. Jaskier now knew it had just been one way for Marx to get himself into Jaskier’s life.

Eskel, Lambert and Vesemir tensed next to Geralt as Vilgefortz asked: “What do you mean by seemed nice?”

Again Marx paused for a moment. “I don’t want to speak ill of Jaskier.” Marx started, hesitating for a moment before continuing. “But the longer I spent with him the more I realised he was…well he was a bit of a diva. It started on the trip to America after the album drop. I’d taken him out for dinner to celebrate. The trip was going so well and Jaskier was working so hard so I figured it would be good for us to have a break. Jaskier, he kicked off in the restaurant. Lost his temper. One minute we were laughing and joking and then he said that if I’d wanted to take him on a romantic dinner, I could have just asked instead of pretending it was for work. I tried to explain that it was just dinner but Jaskier kicked off. Started yelling in the middle of the restaurant and stormed off.” Marx sighed dramatically. “Things just got worse after that. Jaskier started arguing with me about everything. The schedule, wardrobe. He claimed I was trying to control his life but I was just trying to do my job.”

“So Mr Pankratz made it difficult for you to do your job?” Vilgefortz asked and Marx nodded.

“Yes. He’d complain about everything, was always late and never prepared for anything. It was hard but then,” Marx shrugged. “I signed up to deal with a famous singer so I suppose on some level I expected the diva attitude.” Geralt felt anger course through him as Marx described Jaskier. Geralt knew Jaskier and there was no way that anything Marx had said was true. Jaskier was the kindness most compassionate person Geralt had ever met. Jaskier would never ever treat anyone the way Marx was making it out like Jaskier treated him.

“How did you and Mr Pankratz come to be in a relationship?” Vilgefortz asked.

“Jaskier he was a flirt.” Marx explained. “And I should have been stronger but he’s, well he’s an attractive man and when he kept brushing up against me, flirting constantly I couldn’t help it. It was an accident really. We were in a club one night before the tour and Jaskier was drunk. He was leaning up against me and I’ll admit I was a bit drunk to and before I knew what was happening, we were kissing.” Marx dropped his eyes in what appeared to be shame but the smirk in his eyes had Geralt’s teeth set on edge.

“I was the one to break the kiss. Knew straight away I’d crossed a line and I was going to quit. I won’t deny I fancied Jaskier, I wanted to ask him on a proper date so I thought I’d quit my job and then maybe we could have a go at things.” Marx continued.

“You wanted to date Mr Pankratz regardless of the issues you had with your job?” Vilgefortz asked and Marx nodded again.

“Yes. Being his manager was one thing but I thought Jaskier would be different in an actual relationship.” Marx added.

“Why didn’t you quit your job?”

“Because Jaskier convinced me not to. I’d asked him to meet me at the label to discuss it and Jaskier he begged me not to. Tears and everything. He said we could make the relationship work regardless of me being his manager and I just couldn’t say no to him.” Lambert growled next to Jaskier at Marx’s insinuation that Jaskier had wanted Marx to stay.

“What happened on tour?” Vilgefortz asked and Marx cringed.

“We’d gone to a part after one of the shows and Jaskier invited me back to his rooms.” Marx paused, for dramatic affect Geralt thought as Marx turned to face the jury. “We had sex. It happened most nights.”

“Ando how would you describe Mr Pankratz in bed?” Geralt, Eskel, Lambert and Vesemir all growled at the question.

“Rough. He liked it rough. Liked me to bruise him. Mark him.” Marx sighed. “I admit I may have gotten a little over zealous when I bruised his ribs but Jaskier didn’t mind. He wanted it rough and didn’t seem to mind the marks and bruises.” Vilgefortz nodded, his questions finished and Geralt felt himself rising in his seat as Tissaia stood up.

“You say Mr Pankratz enjoyed it rough. I’m presuming you had a way for Mr Pankratz to signal if things got too much?” Tissaia asked and Marx looked at her in confusion. “A safe word Mr Marx. Did you and Mr Pankratz have a safe word?”

“Yes.” Marx said, answering to quickly for it to be believable.

“What was it?” Tissaia asked and Marx glanced down at Vilgefortz, eyes scanning over the crowd in panic.

“Erm…”

“So you can’t remember what your safe word was? The word that would let you know if you had gone to far and actually hurt Mr Pankratz?”

“Songbird. It was songbird.” Marx answered and Geralt could see Yennefer’s smirk from here.

“Songbird. According to Mr Pankratz and multiple witnesses that is the name you used to call Mr Pankratz. A pet name so to speak. Is that correct?” Marx’s eyes turned dark as he nodded in answer. “Verbally Mr Marx.”

“Yes.” Marx admitted and Geralt saw the jury exchanging glances as he spoke.

“I have a written statement from Mr Pankratz’s previous manager detailing the good character of Mr Pankratz. The jury will have it in their evidence packs. Mr Marx, would you like the read the first few lines.” The statement was handed to Marx who was visibly shaking with fury in the witness box. Geralt felt himself smile. Priscilla had offered to come down for the trial but she had had her hands full with hew new baby and Jaskier had said she didn’t need to come. As it was Tissaia and Yennefer had agreed they just needed a statement from her.

Marx cleared his throat before reading: “Jaskier was one of my best clients. He never complained the gruelling schedules and did his best to please everyone around him. In the 5 years I knew him he was a hardworking person.”

“That will do.” Tissaia interrupted. “Mr Marx, does this sound like the Mr Pankratz you described?”

“People change.” Marx growled.

“In 5 years?” Tissaia asked. “Mr Marx, would you consider your schedule for Mr Pankratz over excessive?”

“No.” Marx growled.

“And yet the cause of Mr Pankratz’s collapse was directly linked of exhaustion, caused by the gruelling you set him, correct?” Marx glanced in panic at Vilgefortz who was visibly seething.

“No. Jaskier used to go out partying every night.”

“I’ll direct the jury to the schedule surrounding the last week leading up to Mr Pankratz’s collapse.” Tissaia stated, waiting a moment for the schedule to appear on the screen. “As you can all clearly see, Mr Pankratz did not have time between interviews, rehearsals, sound checks and shows to go as Mr Marx said partying.”

“Objection.” Vilgefortz shouted. 

“Is there a question in this?” The judge asked and Tissaia nodded, turning to face Marx.

“Did you purposely put Jaskier on this schedule knowing it was too much?”

“I was trying to help him.” Marx argued.

“How?” Tissaia asked.

“His career was sinking.” Geralt snorted because he might no a lot about Jaskier’s career but he didn’t think Jaskier had been struggling in his career. Not when his world tour had completely sold out within an hour of going on sale. The jury didn’t think so as they murmured to each other.

“There was no evidence to suggest this.” Tissaia noted. “You purposefully put Jaskier on a schedule that caused his collapse.”

“Objection.” Vilgefortz shouted again. “That is an accusation not a question.” The judge turned to Tissaia who was smiling now, watching as Marx shook in anger at the stand.

“No more questions your honour.” Geralt watched with pleasure as Marx stalked from the witness box, glaring daggers at Tissaia and Yennefer as he passed. The judge called an hour’s break before returning and Geralt stood immediately. He had to find Jaskier. It was the first time this whole trial that Geralt felt any kind of hope that they might win, that Marx might be put away for what he did. All they had to do was get Jaskier through the witness stand.

Geralt was so focused on the thought that Marx would be found guilty he didn’t see as the man stalked out of the room ahead of everyone else. None of them did.

……….

Jaskier stood in the bathroom, hands shaking as he splashed water onto his face. Nerves ran through him as he looked at his face in the mirror. His face was pale and blue eyes wide. They had said this would come down to Jaskier’s word against Marx’s and if Jaskier couldn’t get through this then…then Marx would go free. He would be free to do this to someone else and Jaskier couldn’t let him. He wouldn’t.

He didn’t hear the door to the bathroom open so when he heard a voice behind him he startled. “Hello songbird.” Marx snarled and Jaskier felt fear grip him. Marx’s eyes were blazing with anger, fists clenched at his side as he stalked towards Jaskier.

“You, you can’t be here.” Jaskier whispered, fear gripping him to the point he couldn’t move. Marx just smiled. He was mere inches from Jaskier’s face, Jaskier pressed back against the sink now.

“What do you think your doing songbird?” Marx snarled and Jaskier flinched violently when Marx’s fist banged onto the sink next to Jaskier. “After everything I did for you?”

“What did you do for me?” Jaskier snarled, anger raising through him. Marx rolled his eyes in the same way he always had when he thought Jaskier was being ridiculous, like he was talking to a child.

“Everything.” Jaskier snorted and Marx’s eyes flashed in anger. “I spent months of my fucking life doing everything I could to keep your career on track. If it wasn’t for me…”

“I’d be what?” Jaskier growled. “Happy.” Marx laughed, hand coming to stroke Jaskier’s cheek but Jaskier slapped it away, anger coursing through him at the very thought of this man touching him ever again.

“Happy. What with them. Your precious Geralt?” Marx laughed, hand fisting in Jaskier’s hair. “Don’t make me laugh songbird you could never be happy with them. Living an ordinary life, losing the one thing in your life that gives you purpose. What are you going to do? I heard you quit the label, tell me are you going to be a housewife for your precious Geralt now. Pathetic.”

The anger Jaskier had felt about everything that Marx had done to hi, the way this man had made him feel, suddenly burst violently through Jaskier. How dare this man think his life with Geralt was pathetic. How fucking dare he. Without thinking, Jaskier slapped Marx across the face. Marx’s face snapped sideways and before Jaskier could even register the bright red handprint his hand had made on Marx’s face Marx’s eyes turned violent with anger.

Jaskier shouted as Marx grabbed Jaskier’s hair, twisting his hand tightly in Jaskier’s hair and shoving Jaskier hard enough against the sink for Jaskier’s whole body to jolt. An ache ran up Jaskier’s lower back as he hit against Marx’s chest pressed against Jaskier’s own, pinning him in place but Marx didn’t move, he just laughed at Jaskier eyes blazing with anger. Marx’s fist raised in the air and Jaskier flinched, closing his eyes and his whole body tensed waiting for the blow to come. Except it didn’t.

“Get the fuck off him.” Geralt roared and before Jaskier knew what was happening, Marx tore his hand from where it was tangled in Jaskier’s hair, tearing chunks of hair with it. Jaskier staggered sideways, legs buckling as he watched Geralt lunge at Marx. Geralt’s amber eyes were blazing and he dragged Marx bodily away from Jaskier. Eskel and Lambert appeared behind Geralt, amber eyes blazing as angrily as Geralt’s. 

“Come to protect your precious whore.” Marx laughed. “Trust me he isn’t fucking worth it. A lousy fuck.” Geralt growled low and dangerous as he fisted his hands tightly in Marx’s shirt, almost lifting him from the floor.

“I should fucking kill you.” Geralt growled and Marx laughed.

“Go for it. You do and you’ll never see that precious daughter of yours again.” Geralt growled, eyes sparkling as he shoved Marx against a wall. Eskel and Lambert pressed on the other side of Marx. All 3 brothers were radiating anger as they surrounded Marx, fists clenched and murder in their eyes.

“Geralt.” Yennefer’s voice echoed in the bathroom as she and a court official appeared in the room.

“I should.” Geralt growled. “But I won’t because that would be too fucking good for you. I’d rather see you rot in prison.” Geralt dropped Marx, turning away from the man. Marx’s eyes blazed, fists clenching and he went to punch Geralt’s turned back but Eskel and Lambert growled, grabbing both of Marx’s arms and pinning him in place.

Jaskier stared up at Geralt as Geralt turned amber eyes full of anger and worry on him. Panic was clawing up Jaskier’s chest and tears ran down his face as he hugged his knees against his chest, body shaking from where he had ended up under the sink. “Jask?” Geralt’s voice was filled with warmth and compassion and Jaskier didn’t mean to. He meant to be strong and not let Marx get to him like this but he couldn’t help. The fear and the panic of that man touching him yet again, making Jaskier feel powerless. It was too much. And Jaskier burst into uncontrollable sobs.


	22. Chapter 22

When Jaskier didn’t meet them outside the courtroom, Geralt knew something was wrong. Every other day Jaskier was waiting outside, blue eyes searching the crowd exiting the room for Geralt and his family. Today he wasn’t anywhere in sight. Worry ran through Geralt as he made his way towards the area the witnesses were sitting, waiting their turn to talk in court.

Geralt had known Jaskier had been nervous. The musician hadn’t slept well the previous night, tossing and turning to nightmares. Geralt had spent the most of the previous night awake, holding his shaking love as Jaskier cried silently into the bed. So the fact that Geralt couldn’t see Jaskier now made him panic.

The witness room was empty so Geralt made his way to the bathrooms, distantly aware that Eskel and Lambert were following close behind. He heard voices, muffled by the closed doors. Geralt’s heart was pounding as he heard a shout from behind the door. Jaskier. 

Without thinking, Geralt tore the door open and felt rage bubble over at the sight that greeted him. Marx had his hands wrapped in Jaskier’s hair, pulling Jaskier’s head backwards. Jaskier was pressed against the sink, pain and panic filling his face as he tried to struggle from the grip Marx had on his hair and Marx’s body pressed against his body. Marx’s fist was raised ready to punch Jaskier’s face and Geralt just saw red.

“Get the fuck off him.” Geralt roared, lunging at Marx. Marx swung around, tearing his hand from Jaskier’s hair and Geralt growled when he saw the strands of Jaskier’s hair hanging in Marx’s hair. Geralt’s heart lurched at the sight of Jaskier collapse onto the floor and the protective side demanded that he get Marx as far away from Jaskier as possible. 

“Come to protect your precious whore.” Marx laughed. “Trust me he isn’t fucking worth it. A lousy fuck.” Geralt growled as he fisted his hands tightly in Marx’s shirt. The man yelped as the force of Geralt’s hold lifted him from the floor. It was one thing to know what Marx had done to his precious Jaskier but to see it. To see this man raise a hand to hurt his Jaskier, Geralt would make this man pay. 

“I should fucking kill you.” Geralt growled and Marx laughed. All the things Marx had done to destroy their family. To destroy Jaskier. It all came flooding back in Geralt’s mind and Geralt had never felt a bone deep anger as he did now. He would kill this man for what he had done.

“Go for it. You do and you’ll never see that precious daughter of yours again.” Marx laughed and Geralt felt the reassuring weight of his brothers at his side. He knew if he looked at them they would wear equally murderous gazes but right now all he cared about was the sneering look on Marx’s face.

“Geralt.” Yennefer’s voice echoed in the bathroom and it was like someone had thrown cold water on Geralt’s anger. He stared at Marx, anger still running hotly through him but as the man hung limp in Geralt’s hold, eyes blown wide with rage Geralt suddenly realised the truth. He wasn’t worth it. If he killed Marx what would it bring, a few moments of satisfaction and then what? He would lose Ciri, Jaskier. His whole family. And Marx would be dead, unable to suffer for his crimes.

“I should.” Geralt growled. “But I won’t because that would be too fucking good for you. I’d rather see you rot in prison.” Geralt dropped Marx instantly, disgusted at the thought of touching that man. The man that had caused Jaskier so much pain.

Geralt turned slowly, ignoring his brothers restraining Marx and dragging him out of the bathroom. The door shut behind his brothers and Marx, leaving Geralt and Jaskier alone in the bathroom. Geralt’s heart broke as he turned concerned amber eyes to look at Jaskier. Jaskier who was huddled under the sink, arms wrapped around his knees and gently rocking back and forth. His bright blue eyes darted to look past Geralt as if he expected Marx to come back. “Jask?” Geralt asked quietly and before Geralt knew what was happening, sobs racked through Jaskier’s thin frame.

………….

Jaskier barely registered Geralt dropping to his knees until the bigger man gathered Jaskier up into his arms. Jaskier let Geralt pull him forwards, still sobbing uncontrollably, breathing hitched as his trembling hands wrapped in Geralt’s shirt. Geralt’s hand rubbed gentle circles on Jaskier’s back and Jaskier just found himself sobbing harder and harder. He was weak. Weak and pathetic. How else could he explain what Marx had done. How else could he explain not being able to stop Marx from doing all the terrible things he had done to him.

“Come on, Jask. Breathe for me.” Geralt grumbled, worry tinging his tone. Jaskier choked on a bob, tears streaming down his face as he tried to take a ragged breathe in past the tears but he couldn’t His whole throat felt like it was closed off, stopping him from taking a breath in. Panic clawed through his throat at the idea of Marx, even now in the middle of a fucking court house surrounded by police, could still get to him. Could still hurt him. “Jaskier please.” Geralt pleaded and Jaskier knew if he lifted his eyes up he would see panic mirrored in Geralt’s amber eyes but Jaskier couldn’t. It was just enough effort to cling to Geralt’s chest as panic ran through him.

“I know it’s hard Jaskier.” Geralt said, taking a hold of one of Jaskier’s trembling hands. Jaskier let him unwind the clenched fist his hands had tightened into and place the flattened palm on Geralt’s own chest. “Try and match my breathing Jask.” Geralt said and Jaskier’s foggy brain finally started to cooperate as Geralt took over exaggerated slow breaths in and out. Jaskier’s pam, held to Geralt’s chest by Geralt’s warm hand moved up and down with it and Jaskier made himself concentrate on that simple act. Slowly his breathing evened out into something less panicked though the tears still ran down his face unchecked. “That’s it.” Geralt sighed, arm tightening from where it held Jaskier close.

“I’m sorry.” Jaskier whispered, voice hoarse. “I…I should have stopped him.”

“Don’t.” Geralt growled and Jaskier flinched at the anger in Geralt’s tone. “Shit.” Geralt growled, stroking Jaskier’s hair softly to calm Jaskier down from another full-blown panic attack. “I meant don’t blame yourself. None of this was your fault Jask. Marx should have been anywhere fucking near you.”

“I made him angry.” Jaskier whispered, wincing at the memory of anger sparking in Marx’s eyes when Jaskier had slapped him. “Shit, I hit him.” Jaskier panicked. “I provoked him.” He just knew this would go against them in the court case and he expected Geralt to be angry but when he hesitantly lifted his head to met Geralt’s amber eyes Geralt was…smiling. The largest shit eating grin going and his eyes sparkled with pride as he kissed Jaskier’s head softly.

“Good.” Geralt growled and Jaskier just looked at him in confusion.

“But the case?” 

“Fuck the case.” Geralt growled. “I’m glad you hit him. He deserved it and a lot more.” Geralt smiled and Jaskier tentatively smiled back, some of the fear slowly evaporating under Geralt’s proud gaze. Geralt’s gaze turned serious before he said, “What did he say to make you hit him?”

“He…” Jaskier hesitated, glancing down at Geralt’s chest before answering. “He said…he said my life with you and Ciri was pathetic.” Geralt growled low in his throat and Jaskier felt panic run through him. “It’s not. I…Geralt the last 3 months. I know it’s been hard all of this and I’m sorry for all of it and I understand if you think I’m crazy after all this but…it’s been the happiest I’ve ever been.”

“Really?” Geralt asked and Jaskier couldn’t help the small smile that pulled across his face as he gazed up at Geralt’s eyes.

“Yes. It’s the first time in 5 years I could spend every moment of every day with you and Ciri and I’ve never been happier. That’s what I want Geralt. For the rest of my life. I want to spend everyday of it with you and Ciri.” Geralt’s amber eyes sparkled and he dropped his head down to meet Jaskier’s lips in a passionate kiss.

…………….

Geralt and Jaskier sat on the floor of the dingy bathroom for a while, both unwilling to move themselves. The fact that Jaskier had said the last few months had been the happiest in his life despite everything, made Geralt’s heart ache in happiness. He had always presumed Jaskier would be unhappy, bored even, living a life away from the spotlight but Jaskier’s words contradicted all of that. Jaskier had said he had been happy because he had been able to spend time with him and Ciri, with their family. And Geralt could have burst with love for this man.

“I need to clean up.” Jaskier whispered after about 30 minutes of sitting there. He was no longer crying but his cheeks were red and splotchy from the sobs that had wracked through him mere moments ago. Geralt had felt his heart ease in relief when Jaskier’s breathing had finally evened out away from those panicked gasps he’d been taking. Geralt took Jaskier’s hands in his, helping the singer to his feet as Jaskier’s body still trembled slightly.

Jaskier’s blue eyes looked down at their entwined hands and he sighed in anger when he saw the faint tremble still there. Geralt dropped his head to kiss Jaskier’s hands. “You’ll be ok.”

“When?” Jaskier whispered and Geralt wished he knew the answer to that but he didn’t. He knew it would still be a long road for Jaskier to recover from the fear Marx had left him with but Geralt would be there. They all would be and Geralt just had to hope Jaskier knew that.

“When you’re ready. “Geralt replied. The suit Jaskier and Yennefer had forced him into for court was crumpled and his shirt soaked with Jaskier’s tears so Geralt had no issue with taking the jacket off and soaking the sleeve to use to wipe Jaskier’s tears from his face. Jaskier chuckled softly as Geralt dutifully wiped the mess of tears from Jaskier’s face, blue eyes dancing as they watched Geralt’s every move. “And we’ll be with you ever step of the way.”

“Thank you.” Jaskier said, placing a hand on top of Geralt’s to still his movements. “Really Geralt. Thank you for everything. If it wasn’t for you I…” Jaskier shivered, a stray tear running down his cheek before answering. “I’d still be stuck in that situation so thank you.” Geralt didn’t point out that if it wasn’t for Geralt Jaskier would have never been in that situation because he knew Jaskier would never accept that. So instead he gently brushed the stray tear away and pulled Jaskier into a hug.

“You never have to thank us for helping you. We’re family and I will always be there for you.” Geralt promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologises this is a bit shorter than usual. but I wanted to cover the aftermath of the previous chapter before I got into the final part of the trial.
> 
> As always thank you for all the lovely reviews and hope you all enjoyed :)


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Descriptions of past rape and non/con in this chapter.

The judge had called a halt to yesterday’s proceedings after Marx had been dragged from the bathroom, stating that the events that had happened need to be looked into before they could continue. Jaskier had been relieved, the confrontation with Marx having shaken him to the point where he knew he would have never been able to get through this yesterday.

Geralt had been a steady presence at his side all day yesterday. A solid warm reassuring weight at Jaskier’s side that kept reminding Jaskier that he was safe and loved. Jaskier had expected to exit the bathroom to a crowd of curious onlookers but when they exited, they only found Lambert, Eskel and Vesemir waiting for them. Lambert and Eskel had watched Jaskier with worry painted in their amber eyes while Vesemir had pulled Jaskier into a firm hug that nearly had Jaskier collapse in tears all over again.

“Yennefer said we could go home. They won’t need us back in until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest.” Geralt had grunted, wrapping an arm back around Jaskier’s waist as Vesemir let go of Jaskier. “Are you ok, son?” Vesemir asked, face warm as he looked at Jaskier. Jaskier hadn’t had the energy to speak so he had simply nodded. Neither Vesemir or Geralt’s brothers asked Jaskier to elaborate so simply nodded.

“Scared the media out of the way so we should be good to get to the car without being fucking mobbed.” Lambert growled and Jaskier felt Geralt grunt in answer.

“Lambert and I took the decision to tell the media exactly what we thought of them and the ones that didn’t feel guilt tripped into leaving we chased off with a few glares Geralt would be proud of.” Eskel explained to Jaskier’s silent question of how they had managed to get the media away.

“Fucking leeches the lot of ‘em.” Lambert growled and Jaskier couldn’t help but agree.

When Eskel pulled outside Geralt and Jaskier’s home, Jaskier had offered a quiet thank you, feeling drained as he followed Geralt into the house. Ciri and Triss had met them at the door and Jaskier had found himself suddenly being engulfed in a 3 way hug from Triss and Ciri. “What happened?” Triss asked, concern filling her face as she looked at Jaskier’s tear stained face. Geralt had done a remarkable job of wiping the tears away but his face was still blotchy and eyes red.

“Marx.” Geralt had growled and Ciri had tightened her hold of Jaskier’s waist.

“Fuck Marx.” Ciri declared angrily and Triss made an agreeable noise before turning concerned eyes back on Jaskier.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” Jaskier nodded his head and watched silently as Geralt pulled Triss towards the front door, most likely to discuss Triss looking after Ciri for another day.

“You’re really ok Jask?” Ciri asked quietly, emerald eyes fixing him with a piercing glare similar to one Yennefer might use.

“I’m much better just being home with you.” Jaskier promised and Ciri smiled though a frown was still in place. She had seen the way Jaskier had been the last 3 months and while Ciri didn’t understand exactly why, she understood that Jaskier was still recovering.

“You quit your job didn’t you?” Ciri asked and Jaskier found himself nodding. “Does that mean you can come to the museum with me and Geralt next week?”

Jaskier felt his heart clench painfully, jumping when Geralt’s warm hand came to rest on his shoulder. “I…Not just yet Ciri. But soon, maybe.” Jaskier hoped. That’s all he wanted now. A normal life that he could enjoy with Geralt and Ciri and he thought, maybe, when the scandal surrounding Marx had faded and Jaskier stopped releasing new music people would start to forget about him and maybe, just maybe, he could have a normal life with his family without fear of them being followed every moment by paparazzi.

“How about you go and get a movie set up?” Geralt suggested and Ciri jumped away, leaving Geralt with his arms wrapped around Jaskier’s waist. Jaskier leant back enjoying the warmth of Geralt’s embrace. “You really think you could, one day?”

“I don’t know.” Jaskier admitted. “But I hope so.” Geralt hummed, kissing Jaskier’s hair softly as they made their way into the living room.

The rest of the day was spent on the sofa, Jaskier wrapped tightly in Geralt’s arms as they watched movies and ate junk food which Geralt for once allowed Ciri to eat. Geralt and Jaskier both took Ciri to bed that night, Jaskier sitting on the bed and reading her a story while Geralt stood and watched before Ciri was ready to sleep.

When they had closed Ciri’s door silently, Jaskier had yawned, the day having caught up with him and exhaustion running through him. Geralt had hummed and directed Jaskier to bed. Geralt disappeared for 10 minutes to clear up the living room before returning to their shared room. Jaskier was already snuggled in the bed and when Geralt had settled himself next to Jaskier, Jaskier found himself wrapped around his white-haired lover, their limbs entangled as Jaskier’s head rested against Geralt’s chest. They fell asleep like that and the warm protective embrace kept the nightmares that had plagued Jaskier away all night.

The journey back to the courthouse the next day, Yennefer having called to explain the Jaskier would be needed by 2 that afternoon, Jaskier felt an odd sense of calm. Yennefer had dropped by that morning to explain that Marx was being charged with breaking his bail conditions (which had involved staying 10 feet away from Jaskier and his family at all times). She also explained that she was returning to the court house to discuss the adding in the evidence of Marx confronting Jaskier into the case with the judge. She was completely confident that they would be able to as the judge had been extremely annoyed the previous night about what Marx had done and Vilgefortz had been scrambling to recover the defence’s case since.

Now all Jaskier had to do was give his side of the story and as he stood in the witness box, the eyes of everyone in the courtroom watching him Jaskier felt his hands start to shake. Marx’s rage filled eyes found Jaskier and he sneered at the musician. Jaskier felt panic claw up his chest as his eyes danced across the Tissaia, Yennefer and Vilgefortz. Yennefer winked softly as Jaskier’s gaze slid past her. Eskel, Lambert and Vesemir all looked at him from their places, offering smiles of encouragement. There were a large number of people in the courtroom, more than there had been in previous days and Jaskier saw a few murmuring to each other. He could imagine what they were saying and he felt self-conscious as he felt their judgemental eyes on him. And then his eyes met Geralt and he saw the shine of affection and love in them. He could do this. He had to do this.

“Mr Pankratz, could you please explain the nature of your relationship with Mr Marx?” Tissaia asked and Jaskier had to drag his eyes away from Geralt before answering.

It was a relatively easy question but Jaskier still felt the nerves run through him. “He was my manager.”

“As your manager what was Mr Marx’s job?” Tissaia asked and Jaskier was glad she was starting off with the easy questions. She and Yennefer had coached Jaskier through the disposition last week before the trial began and they said they would start with the easy questions before Jaskier had to start to discuss the abuse in detail. A fact that made Jaskier queasy just thinking about.

“He was responsible for my schedule. Making sure I knew where I was meant to be and organising the interviews and press I had to do.” Jaskier explained.

“And do you think the schedule Mr Marx gave you was over extensive?” 

“At first no.” Jaskier admitted. Yennefer had told Jaskier he had to tell the whole truth if he was to be believable to the jury. “He told me that the press and interviews would help, get me back in the public eye. I didn’t really want to be as in the public eye as Valdo wanted me to be but he was my manager so I presumed he knew what was best for my career. It wasn’t until…” Jaskier hesitated, mind dropping back to the first time Marx had hit him. The pain the and humiliation of it all.

“Until what Mr Pankratz?” Tissaia prompted.

Jaskier swallowed thickly before answering. “Valdo invited me out to dinner in LA, he said it would be good exposure to the media because I’d always tried my best to stay away from the media. I hadn’t wanted to agree but he made it sound like it was a good idea. We…we had an argument and I stormed out of the restaurant back to the hotel.”

“What was the argument about?” Tissaia asked and Jaskier blushed.

“He tried to order my food for me…he said I had to go on a diet because it would help my career. I…I didn’t mean to cause a scene but I hated the thought of someone trying to control my life like that so I stormed out.”

Tissaia nodded. “And what happened after dinner?”

“I went back to the hotel room. I was tired so I went straight to bed. I…I don’t remember what time it was but there was a knocking on my door so I opened it and Valdo was there. He…he pushed his way into my room and started shouting at me.” Jaskier felt a tear run down his face as he talked. “He said I was ungrateful and that I was always complaining but I never did even when the schedule he had me on was so bad I never got more than a few hours sleep every night.” The tears were running down Jaskier’s face now and he daren’t lift his eyes in case he met Marx’s smirking face. “I told him to get out but he wouldn’t listen and then we were arguing. I’m sorry but I don’t remember what we shouted about.” Jaskier apologised, lifting his head briefly to look at the crowded room. His eyes instantly sought out Geralt who offered Jaskier a re-assuring smile. “He punched me.” Jaskier’s hand went unconsciously to touch the area of his cheek Marx had first punched. “The next morning I came down for breakfast and he’d changed my schedule again. He’d added in more interviews and I realised that he wasn’t doing it to help my career. He was angry about the previous night and giving me a schedule that didn’t give me a moments break was his way of punishing me.” 

“Thank you Mr Pankratz.” Tissaia nodded and Jaskier saw the encouraging wink Yennefer gave him, bolstering his courage that he was doing ok. “Could you please explain how Mr Marx’s behaviour changed after this?”

“He started to get more controlling. It’s hard to explain but it was just little things he did at first.” Jaskier said, eyes once more searching Geralt’s comforting amber eyes in the crowd. “He changed my schedule all the time and never told me about it so I was late or running behind. He started to give me less and less time off. He started to touch me. At first it was just warning touches, when he thought I was about to argue against something he had planned he’d squeeze my leg against the table. Or he would keep hold of my shoulder just so I knew he was there.” Jaskier shivered at the memory of Marx’s touches on his skin, like brands burning. “We went out one night after rehearsals for the tour. I wasn’t drinking because I had to drive home but he was. Towards the end of the night he started to get more…” Jaskier had to pause, hands trembling as he remembered that night. Marx’s lips pressing against his. That was the night Jaskier had almost lost Geralt. All because of Marx. “He started to touch me more. He was pressed to my side all night, arm wrapped around me but towards the end of the night his hands…they…they.” Tears were running down Jaskier’s face now, eyes fixed to the ground in humiliation as he spoke, “he started to feel me up.”

“Could you please elaborate?” Tissaia asked and Jaskier knew the question was coming but it still hurt to answer it.

“His hands…they started touching my legs and my…my…” Jaskier couldn’t say the word.

“Your penis Mr Pankratz?” Tissaia asked and Jaskier breathed out a quiet “Yes.”

“Objection your honour.” Vilgefortz shouted. “The prosecution is leading the witness.” The judge sighed, fixing Vilgefortz with an angry glare.

“I will allow it.” Vilgefortz stuttered but couldn’t exactly argue with the judges ruling. “Mr Pankratz, please speak plainly so you are not misunderstood.” Jaskier nodded, embarrassment running through him.

“What else did Mr Marx do that night if anything?” Tissaia asked.

“He kissed me.” Jaskier said, trying not to let his voice shake. He could hear the quiet murmurs filling the court room from here but they weren’t loud enough for him to understand what they were saying.

“When did Mr Marx’s actions intensify?” A tissue was quietly handed to Jaskier which he took with shaking hands as the tears spilled from his face. Jaskier was just grateful that his voice was still clear and even as he spoke.

“6 weeks into the tour.” Jaskier answered. The experience was so engrained in Jaskier’s memory he would never forget when it happened. “We’d been at a bar with the rest of the band celebrating the end of the show. Valdo walked me back to my hotel room afterwards. He’d been kissing me all night, touching me all the time.” Jaskier shivered, eyes fixed on a point on the ground not willing to see the eyes of the people judging him. “I was going to close the door behind me when he followed me in, closed the door behind him. He…he kissed me and I told him to get off but he didn’t listen and he pushed me on the bed and I bit him.” Jaskier felt his eyes flash to Geralt for a moment, seeing the proud look in Geralt’s eyes at the fact Jaskier had bitten Marx bolstering Jaskier’s confidence as he spoke. “I didn’t think…he punched me for it.” Jaskier said, hugging his arms around him for some sense of comfort as he spoke. “I wanted to scream but Marx he…he shoved a handkerchief in my mouth so I couldn’t.” Jaskier’s voice broke as he spoke. “I tried to fight him off but he was stronger and he had me pinned to the bed…he…he got my short off and used it to trap my hands behind my back.” Jaskier shivered at the memory of being bound that way, unable to move to stop what Marx was doing. “And then he…” Jaskier voice hitched as he spoke. “He…started kissing me and then…he…he took my pants off and…he…he raped me.” Jaskier said, unable to explain the horrible details of what Marx had done.

“Thank you Mr Pankratz. One final question, could you please explain your encounter with Mr Marx yesterday in the court bathroom?” Jaskier nodded, taking a breath to steady his frantic breathing before answering.

His voice shook as he spoke, “I was in the bathroom when Valdo walked in. He was angry and he…he kept saying he’d done everything for me, that he’d been doing everything for my sake. I…I was angry so I slapped him and then he…he grabbed me.” Jaskier voice broke at the remembrance that even these so many months later Marx still had the power to hurt him. Swallowing thickly, Jaskier continued: “I think…I think he was going to hit me but he never got a chance to. We were interrupted and they pulled Valdo off me.” Jaskier said, relief flooding him at the memory of Geralt, his Geralt, pulling Marx away from him. Saving him.

“No more questions.” Tissaia spoke.

Jaskier fought back the emotions running through him as Vilgefortz stood ready to begin his questions. Jaskier didn’t dare lift his head to Marx, knowing the man would have a smirk fixed on his face and Jaskier couldn’t bare the idea of ever seeing that smirk in his entire life again.

“Mr Pankratz, how would you generally describe your sexual encounters?” Vilgefortz asked and Jaskier blanched. Yennefer had Tissaia had prepared him for the difficult questions Vilgefortz may ask him but it was still difficult to hear this man ask about Jaskier’s personal life.

“I don’t understand?” Jaskier asked, unsure what Vilgefortz wanted him to say.

“I mean, Mr Pankratz, would you describe your sexual encounters as adventurous?” Jaskier opened his mouth to speak but Vilgefortz continued speaking before he could. “Miss Anna Henrietta provided a statement to the press stating that you were adventurous during her relationships with her.”

“I…” Jaskier glanced briefly at Yennefer whose violet eyes had an angry spark in them. She gave him a re-assuring nod before he continued. “Yes.”

“Then Mr Pankratz, could your supposed rape not be categorised as adventurous?”

“No.” Jaskier said, voice flat. “I never wanted what Valdo did to me.”

“And yet.” Vilgefortz smirked. “Could you describe some of the activities that you and your partner Anna Henrietta did?”

“That is irrelevant to the case.” Tissaia interrupted.

“I only mean to ask if anything Mr Marx and Mr Pankratz did mirrors activities Mr Pankratz is already known to enjoy.” The judge nodded his head in assent and Jaskier felt nausea rise as Vilgefortz asked, “Have you ever partaken in bondage or use of gags during sex?”

“Yes.” Jaskier answered, face burning in embarrassment.

“Mr Pankratz after the alleged rapes was there ever any blood?” Jaskier shook his head. “Verbal response please.”

“No.” Jaskier bit out, shame colouring him. He knew most people who were raped would bleed, would suffer some sort of tearing but that had never happened because Marx had always prepared Jaskier first. Had been nauseatingly gentle with Jaskier while he did it. It was why Jaskier hadn’t been able to let Geralt touch him that way because the white-haired man was always so kind and gentle in sex, always making sure Jaskier was comfortable before he even considered penetrating the musician. And it made what Marx did all the worse because he had made Geralt’s gentle kind act seem sick in Jaskier’s mind.

“Would you describe Mr Marx gentle during these encounters?”

“No.” Jaskier bit out. “He…he hit me, bruised me.” 

“But he was always gentle in his preparation correct?” Vilgefortz asked and Jaskier refused to say yes. Just because Marx had taken the time to make sure Jaskier was suitably prepared didn’t mean anything about it was gentle.

“He pinned me to the bed and wouldn’t let me move.” Jaskier said, anger running through him at the thought of anyone calling Marx gentle.

“But he prepared you gently?”

After a moments quiet the judge turned to Jaskier and said, “Please answer the question Mr Pankratz.”

“Yes.” Jaskier managed, refusing to lift his eyes and see the judgment in the room. Shame coloured every part of him as he felt angry embarrassed tears run down his face.

“You claim Mr Marx’s advances were always unwanted and yet you never went to anyone to have it stopped. You actively did as Mr Marx told you including going out for meals and drinks with him. If he was abusing you why would you do this?” Yennefer has discussed this with Jaskier and Geralt, it was the hardest part to explain of Jaskier’s actions. Jaskier hadn’t wanted to tell a court full of people about Geralt but Yennefer had said he had to. If he was to get Marx convicted, he had to explain the full reasons behind why Marx’s threats had been so effective. And Geralt had agreed.

“Valdo was threatening me.” Jaskier said voice tight with emotion.

“How?” Vilgefortz prompted and Jaskier felt his heart clench.

“The…the pictures.” Jaskier stuttered. “He took pictures after the first time he…after the first time he raped me.”

“The pictures that were published the in press?” Vilgefortz asked. “I believe these have been submitted into evidence.” Jaskier felt his face flush an even darker shade of red as one of the pictures Marx had taken flashed up in the courtroom screens. He knew it would happen, that the pictures being marked as evidence and most likely would be mentioned and therefore shown in court but it still left Jaskier feeling sick.

“Yes. Marx took them after he raped me.” Jaskier forced out, fighting the overwhelming urge to throw up as he kept his eyes fixed to the floor, silent tears running down his face. “He said if I told anyone about what he’d done he would go the press with the pictures.”

“So your actions up until this point had been of your own free will?”

“No.” Jaskier retorted. He hadn’t wanted any of this. Not one fucking part of it.

Jaskier made the mistake of lifting his head and his eyes met Marx’s. Marx was looking at Jaskier with a leering smile on his face, eyes dancing over the picture on the screen of Jaskier lying naked lust in those brown eyes. Jaskier felt sick. “Then what was Mr Marx using to threaten you up until this point?”

“My…my family.” Jaskier managed, his eyes glanced away from Marx and landed on Geralt, Vesemir, Eskel and Lambert. All 4 Rivia’s were looking at Jaskier with concerned angry amber eyes. Geralt offered Jaskier a weak smile in encouragement but it fell flat as Jaskier heard whispers among the crowd.

“Do you mean to say Mr Marx threatened the lives of your family?” Vilgefortz asked and Jaskier felt his eyes burning with tears.

“No. Valdo he…he found out I was dating someone and he threatened to make it known to the press.” Jaskier said. “After the first time he hit me he said if I told anyone then he would go to the press and tell them all my boyfriend did it.”

“Had your boyfriend ever hit you before?”

“Never.” Jaskier said, anger bubbling through him at the mere suggestion. “He has never would never raise a hand to me.”

“And do you and your boyfriend enjoy rough sex, the kind that could cause the bruises on your thighs?” Vilgefortz asked and Jaskier blushed in shame because yes he and Geralt could sometimes get vigorous during sex but never to the point of the bruises Marx had caused. Never.

“No. He would never hurt me that much. He would never hurt me to the point of bruising my ribs.” Jaskier said, barely controlling the rage building in him.

“Your boyfriends name is protected by the courts,” Vilgefortz started and Jaskier loved Yennefer for managing that. It had probably helped that he had made it abundantly clear he wouldn’t allow Geralt’s name or any of his family’s names to appear in court for the media to snap up. He hadn’t gone through all the pain Marx had caused just to let Geralt’s name slip because it was spoken in court. “However, I do have his records here, submitted in evidence.” Vilgefortz stated. “Is it true your boyfriend has a history of violence?”

At the beginning of their relationship, Geralt had told Jaskier about an incident when he had been in his late teens, just finished school. It had been the year before he met Yennefer and Geralt had been, in his own words, troubled. He’d gotten into fights, purposefully going out picking fights. And after one particular fight he’d gotten himself picked up by the police. The fight itself had only left Geralt’s opponent with a broken nose and arm. Geralt had been defending a woman he had later found out was called Renfri. The man had been following Renfri down the dark street and Geralt had stumbled across them as he was walking the streets. Geralt had done the right thing, saving Renfri from that man and because of it he’d been left with 2 weeks of communal service and mandated anger management classes. Geralt had never hurt anyone since.

“Only the once and he was trying to help someone.”

“But the fact remains you are dating a man with a history of violence. Did you and your boyfriend break up after Mr Marx first kissed you?”

“Yes.” Jaskier managed, body shaking with anger now as Vilgefortz smirked.

“Why?”

“He…he accused me of cheating.” Jaskier managed, voice tight with emotion. He knew if he glanced up at Geralt he would see shame in his lover’s eyes but Jaskier couldn’t move his eyes from where they were fixed on a point of the courtroom floor. He didn’t want to see the judgement of the faces around him.

“Was your boyfriend mad? Did he get angry?” Vilgefortz pushed.

“No…”

“If I thought my boyfriend was cheating, I would have bene angry.” Vilgefortz said. “Is that why you fabricated this lie Mr Pankratz because you didn’t want to admit the truth to your boyfriend? Is that why you are saying Mr Marx raped you when there is no evidence to suggest that he ever did anything without your consent?”

“No, I…” Jaskier tried before Vilgefortz interrupted him with a smirk.

“Is that why you slapped Mr Marx yesterday in the court bathroom? Because you were angry that he wasn’t letting you lie?” Jaskier shook his head, tears rolling down his face as emotions ran through him.

“No…” Jaskier tried but Vilgefortz interrupted him again. Jaskier could barely see past the tears now, pain stabbing his heart as Vilgefortz spoke.

“Mr Pankratz you are a jilted lover who was disappointed that Mr Marx would not back up the fantasy you had created for yourself to protect your career and that is why you slapped him.”

“No, I…” Jaskier tried.

“No more questions.” Vilgefortz interrupted and Jaskier could just stare at the man. He never wanted this. He had never wanted any of this and for someone, anyone, to say that he had. Jaskier felt numb as tears ran through him. The judge was saying something but all Jaskier could do was stare at the floor, tears running down his face as he shook his head slowly. He hadn’t wanted it. He’d never wanted what Marx had done to him. Never.

“Jask?” Yennefer’s voice broke through Jaskier thoughts as her hand came to rest gently on his shoulder and as Jaskier lifted his head he was surprised to find the courtroom empty. Her violet eyes were warm with concern as she gently pulled Jaskier off the witness stand, wrapping an around Jaskier’s shoulders. “Let’s get you to Geralt.” Jaskier nodded, letting Yennefer guide him through the empty courtroom. Tears still ran freely down Jaskier’s face and it was all too much. It was just too much.


	24. Chapter 24

“That fucking bastard.” Lambert seethed, pacing angrily up and down the small area of the courthouse waiting room that the Rivia’s had claimed. “We should have fucking killed him, the bastard.” Geralt ignored Lambert’s seething, amber eyes scanning the crowd, worry weighing heavily in his stomach.

Jaskier. Shit, Jaskier’s face when Vilgefortz started asking those questions. He had looked crushed. When Vilgefortz had claimed Jaskier had done this because he was some jilted lover Geralt had almost gotten to his feet and attacked the man. How dare he? How fucking dare he make Jaskier cry like that, heartbreak and pain so clear in Jaskier’s bright blue eyes. Wasn’t it bad enough that Jaskier had had to talk about what Marx had done but for the defence to claim this was all Jaskier’s fault. If Geralt ever saw Marx again he didn’t think he’d be able to control his anger.

Geralt had been in the room when Yennefer and Tissaia ran through the exact details of what Marx had done to Jaskier so he had been somewhat prepared to hear what Jaskier had said. He knew how Marx had manipulated Jaskier. He knew how Marx had raped and abused Jaskier and how Jaskier had been powerless to stop it. But to hear Jaskier explain it all in the detail he had today, something he had only been able to describe in dis-jointed anecdotes before now, filled Geralt with anger and pride. Until today Jaskier had struggled to keep a level head when he described the abuse he’d suffered by Marx’s hands, Geralt having to coax Jaskier out of a few near panic attacks as his lover tried to give Tissaia all the information she needed to build the case against Marx. Honestly, Geralt had been worried the same would happen today. He had thought Jaskier would panic, unable to tell the court what had happened and Geralt knew that if that happened regardless of the evidence the police had taken yesterday after Marx’s confrontation of Jaskier, he knew Marx would go free on most of the charges. Yennefer had said they were pretty confident they had him on the harassment and assault charges after yesterday’s performance but everything regarding the rape and sexual assaults still rested on Jaskier’s testimony.

Geralt had never felt more pride than when Jaskier swallowed past his obvious fear and explained the horrific details of what Marx had done. Tears had been pouring down Jaskier’s face the whole time, his voice filled with emotion and breaking on certain parts but he had managed to get through it. And all the time Jaskier spoke all Geralt had wanted to do was race to his distraught boyfriend and wrap him in his warm arms. Protect him from the horrible things that had been done to him.

Lambert was still stalking angrily, keeping away most of the crowd who kept looking at the Rivia’s with obvious nervousness. Between Lambert’s angry stalking, Eskel’s angry glare glaring daggers into a hole in the far wall of the courthouse and the angry snarl painted on Vesemir’s face it was no small wonder they kept their distance. None of them had known the finer details of what had happened to Jaskier. They knew Marx had hurt him, knew Marx had raped him but to hear the full details of exactly what Marx had done to systematically destroy the happiest kindest man they knew, it hurt them all.

They had all seen the difference in Jaskier. He was no longer the happy, flamboyant and loud man Geralt had brought into their lives, who had fitted so perfectly into their family. But now Jaskier was so quiet. In the words of Lambert, it was fucking unnerving. Jaskier barely spoke now and while he was slowly coming out of shell he was still near silent during the family get togethers. At certain points during these dinners Jaskier’s eyes would take on a faraway look and when Geralt gently shook Jaskier’s shoulder to get his attention the younger man would jerk away from the touch. Jaskier would always smile and whisper and apology after these incidents, while the pain in Geralt’s face had been obvious to them all. They were all in pain, knowing Jaskier was still suffering even now and there was nothing they could do about it.

Geralt spotted Jaskier the minute he walked out of the courtroom with Yennefer. Yennefer’s arm was wrapped firmly around Jaskier’s shoulder, leading the taller man out of the room. Jaskier’s bright blue eyes were fixed on the floor, tears still running down his face and his hands shaking. Geralt pushed off the wall he had been leaning on immediately, closing the distance between him and Jaskier in a few quick footsteps.

The minute Geralt was close enough, he took Jaskier from Yennefer and wrapped solid arms around Jaskier’s shoulder. Distantly, he was aware of his brothers, Yennefer and Vesemir making a circle around them to keep the curious onlookers gazes away. Jaskier’s hands stayed limp at his sides as Geralt pressed a soft kiss to the top of Jaskier’s head.

“Can we go home?” Jaskier whispered, voice horse and muffled from where it was leaning against Geralt’s neck. Geralt hummed, sending a questioning look to Yennefer whose bright violet eyes were looking at Jaskier with worry.

“Yeah. We won’t need you here for the next bit.” Yennefer said and Geralt felt Jaskier sag against him in relief.

“We’ll stay and let you know the outcome.” Vesemir promised, concerned eyes fixed on Jaskier. “You get yourselves home.”

“I’ll drive you.” Eskel said, grabbing the keys from his pocket. They’d all come in the sae car and Geralt felt relieved at Eskel’s offering. He hadn’t wanted to leave Jaskier to pick his brothers and Father back up from the courthouse. “Bring the car back when I’m done.” Geralt gave him a thankful smile as he tightened his hold around Jaskier. The musician hadn’t moved, body shaking minutely in Geralt’s arms and overwhelming worry ran through Geralt.

“I’ll get these bastards to back the fuck off.” Lambert growled, smile vicious as he turned a glare on a reporter that had come slightly to close to where Jaskier’s family where keeping him hidden from view. Lambert snarled and the reporter backed off instantly, holding out his hands in surrender. “Fucking parasites the lot of ‘em.” Lambert said, lifting his voice loud so the whole room could hear them.

“It’s not right what they’ve done to you Jask.” Eskel added, turning to glare at the small handful of reporters that had been allowed in the courthouse.

“They should be ashamed of themselves.” Vesemir continued. Jaskier’s head twitched from where it was resting against Geralt’s neck in response. Slowly the handful of reporters started to disperse. Their gazes glancing at the Rivia’s in confusion. A few of them even looked a bit guilty as they walked away.

“Jask.” Geralt said quietly, gently lifting Jaskier’s chin so he could see the bright blue tear-filled eyes. “You good to go?” Jaskier nodded before dropping his gaze back down to the floor. Geralt wrapped an arm around Jaskier’s shoulders, surprised to see Vesemir drop on Jaskier’s other side and do the same. Eskel and Yennefer walked in front, with Lambert behind; Jaskier’s family creating a barrier between Jaskier and the rest of the world.

When they exited the courthouse, they were greeted with the usual flashing of camera’s and the shouting of questions from the press outside. Geralt growled when he felt Jaskier’s body tense and seem to grow even smaller from where it stood between Geralt and Vesemir. They were just about to start pushing through the crowd when Jaskier suddenly stopped on the steps. “Jask?” Geralt asked, voice low as Vesemir’s hand tightened where it was rested on Jaskier’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

Jaskier didn’t say anything, blue eyes suddenly lifting to see the crowd. He looked a bit bemused, as if he didn’t realise why he was outside. Geralt felt worry run through him as Yennefer walked to stand in front of Jaskier. Eskel and Lambert stood both glaring at the crowds as if darting them to come closer. “Jask?” Yennefer asked.

“I want to say something.” Jaskier suddenly said. His voice was quiet but there was a resolve in his voice as he looked at Yennefer. “Can I?”

Yennefer seemed to consider it for a moment but slowly she nodded her head. “The case is over, regardless of what the jury decide. But Jaskier, you don’t have to say anything to these people if you don’t want to.” Geralt tightened his hold on Jaskier’s shoulders for a moment but Jaskier just nodded.

“I want to.” Jaskier whispered and Yennefer nodded. “I’ll be fine.” Jaskier said, as if sensing Geralt’s apprehension as he lifted his face to meet Geralt’s amber eyes. He smiled softly as he pulled himself away from the comforting hold of Geralt and Vesemir’s arms around him. “Promise.” Geralt didn’t know what to say as he watched Yennefer and Jaskier walk forwards to meet the loud crowd of reporters.

Yennefer’s arms rested lightly on the back of Jaskier’s back. Jaskier stood a little taller in the face of the blinding lights. Geralt could just make out Yennefer saying something close to Jaskier’s ear before the 2 were close enough for the reporters to hear them. “My client is willing to make a statement. We won’t be taking any questions.” She stated and a quiet ran through the reporters. The flashes of camera’s didn’t stop and Jaskier’s body tightened in tension before he took a breath and spoke.

“I wanted to thank everyone who believed in me these last few months.” Jaskier’s voice was clear as it rang through the crowd but Geralt could here the slight shake in it. “And I wanted to apologise for breaking the trust people placed in me. I…I only every wanted to let my music touch the world and I tried to be a good role model for the people who loved my music so I’m sorry that I failed in that regard.” Geralt’s heart twisted in his gut because Jaskier had nothing to apologise. None of this was his fault. None of it. “And I wanted to say if anyone ever feels like they’re alone in the world I promise you, you aren’t alone. There is always someone there who will help you. It might not be obvious at first.” Jaskier paused and his head twisted backwards for a second, blue eyes meeting Geralt’s, filled with warmth and affection. “But there will always be someone who is willing to listen and believe in you no matter what the rest of the world thinks.”

There was a pause of quiet and then the reporters started to shout questions at Jaskier. “That’s all we have to say.” Yennefer said, pulling at Jaskier’s shoulders to move them through the crowd. Geralt, Eskel, Lambert and Vesemir moved as one, flanking around Jaskier and Yennefer as they pushed through the crowd.

When they finally got to the car, the reporters scared off from following them as Lambert and Eskel stood glaring daggers at anyone stupid enough to get too close, Jaskier collapsed against the car. His hands were shaking but there was a hesitant smile on his face, blue eyes gazing at Geralt with affection as he stood there. “I’m ok.” Jaskier smiled, shaking hand coming to cup Geralt’s cheek. “I’ll be ok.” And for the first time in months, Geralt believed him.

………

Jaskier was silent as Eskel drove them back home. Geralt had gotten into the backseat with him, Jaskier sitting in the middle of the car so he could rest his head against Geralt’s shoulder. The warmth and comfort from his love’s embrace making him feel safe and secure.

He hadn’t been planning to speak in front of the reporters. At first he hadn’t even wanted to walk through them, terrified of what they might think of him after what Vilgefortz had said but as he stood shaking and numb in Geralt’s arm in the courthouse he had realised something. It didn’t matter what these people thought of him, these strangers. The only thing that mattered was that Geralt, his whole family, believed in him. Loved him. That was what was going to help Jaskier, not the opinion of people he didn’t know and yet claimed to know him. All that mattered was his family.

And with that realisation as they walked out of the courthouse, Jaskier had realised something else. He wasn’t the only person in the world to have been hurt by someone like Marx. In retrospect, as much as everything Marx had done had hurt Jaskier, Jaskier had been lucky. He had been lucky because he had had Geralt, his family. There were a lot of people who didn’t have that support and something in Jaskier’s heart had screamed at him to tell those people they weren’t alone. So Jaskier had pushed past his doubt and the shame of everything that had happened and said exactly that. He knew it probably wouldn’t help but Jaskier knew even now he had the ability to reach so many people and if by saying those words he helped only one person then it was worth it.

Geralt’s gentle squeeze of Jaskier’s shoulder had the musician slowly opening his eyes to see that Eskel had pulled up outside their house. “Vesemir texted Triss to tell her what happened.” Eskel grunted. “She said she’d take Ciri to her house for a sleepover. She’ll drop her off in the morning.” Geralt grunted his thanks as he climbed out of the car, taking Jaskier’s hand as Jaskier followed him. “Feel better Jask.” Eskel grunter, amber eyes brimming with concern. Jaskier nodded, unsure what to say as he closed the door behind him.

As Eskel pulled away, Geralt wrapped an arm around Jaskier’s waist, pulling his lover closer as they walked to their front door. Geralt pulled out the key and helped Jaskier out of the suit jacket he’d worn for court. “I’m going for a shower.” Jaskier whispered, not having the energy to speak any louder.

Geralt grunted, amber eyes watching as Jaskier walked up the stairs. His steps were slow as Jaskier put one foot in front of the other, mind spinning through the events of the day. He had no idea if he had succeeded in convincing the court if Marx was guilt or not and the thought of that man being let free sent nausea running through Jaskier’s stomach. And yet Jaskier just kept thinking that even if the worst happened and Marx was let free, he wouldn’t come near Jaskier again. And if he did then Jaskier had his family to protect him.

Jaskier’s hands slowly stopped their trembling as he stood in the shower, letting the heat wash over him and chase away the memories of what Marx had done. It hurt. Fucking hell it hurt more than Jaskier ever thought memories could to remember the pain Marx had caused him but it didn’t matter now. All that mattered was that Jaskier was safe. Safe and loved by his family.

Jaskier towel dried his hair and headed to his and Geralt’s bedroom. He ignored his own draw of pyjama’s instead taking an old shirt of Geralt’s out and a pair of Geralt’s sweat pants. They were freshly washed but they still smelt intimately like Geralt. Wrapped in the too big clothes, Jaskier felt warm and protected as he smelt the faint hint of Geralt still clinging to the clothes. He caught a glance of himself in the mirror and smiled softly.

The weight he had so drastically lost was no longer so obvious. Jaskier had slowly started to gain back the weight, though perhaps not as fast as Geralt wanted him to judging by the way the white-haired man kept pushing food in front of Jaskier whenever he had a chance. The bruises where gone and looking at the mirror Jaskier could almost pretend he had never met Marx. Physically he was almost back to how he had been before Marx but the memories ever present in his mind wouldn’t let him forget. Jaskier didn’t think they ever would.

As Jaskier walked down the stairs, he couldn’t help but smile softly when he saw Geralt standing in the kitchen. He had changed out of the court mandated suit and tie and was wearing an old shirt and sweats as well. Geralt’s amber eyes flashed as he caught a glimpse of Jaskier, smiling when he realised Jaskier was wearing his clothes. Geralt had always liked it when Jaskier wore his clothes.

“Sit down.” Geralt grunted and Jaskier smiled, taking the seat on the sofa. Geralt dropped down next to him, wrapping a comforting arm around Jaskier. It was quiet in the cottage and Jaskier felt himself relax into the warm embrace of Geralt. He hadn’t realised how tired he was until he sat there next to Geralt, his head cushioned on Geralt’s shoulder. “Sleep.” Geralt rumbled. “I’ll wake you when we hear anything.” And Jaskier did.

…………

Jaskier woke to Geralt softly shaking his shoulders. He blinked sluggish eyes up at Geralt who was wearing a wide smile, amber eyes bright. “What?” Jaskier asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Yennefer called.” Geralt said and Jaskier felt himself wake up fully, apprehension running through him. “Marx was found guilty.” Geralt grinned, Jaskier looking at Geralt in shock. “He got 15 years.”

“Guilty?” Jaskier asked, voice soft and disbelieving as he stared at Geralt.

“Yes.” Geralt smiled and Jaskier felt relief flood him. Guilty. They had believed him. Marx was going to prison. Without thinking Jaskier pressed his lips firmly against Geralt’s, grinning as Geralt kissed him back. 

“It’s over.” Jaskier whispered, pulling away only enough to speak, his nose still pressed against Geralt’s. “It’s finally over.”

“Yes it is Jask.” Geralt whispered and Jaskier felt relief flood him all over again as he fell into Geralt’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed and thank you for the kind reviews.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter so I hope you all enjoy :)

Following Marx’s conviction the media quickly did a full 180. The morning after Yennefer had called them to tell them of the good news, Jaskier opened his phone to find his newsfeed covered with stories of Marx’s horrendous abuse. The media who had painted Jaskier as the bad guy in this situation for months were now calling Jaskier a victim of a horrendous crime. A few of the pages showed pictures of Jaskier with the Rivia’s, all 4 Rivia’s glaring daggers at the media with the caption ‘Is this Jaskier’s secret family?’ but thankfully most of the media seemed to be concentrating more on Marx’s victims. Jaskier’s social media was filled with love and support from his fans.

What drew Jaskier’s eye however was the comments and tweets his speech in front of the courthouse had gained. There were people all commenting on new articles, calling Jaskier brave and inspiring in the way he had stood up to his abuser despite the fact no one had believed him. And there were people who were sharing their own experience, saying how Jaskier’s fight against Marx had inspired them to seek help. Jaskier felt warmth and pride run through his chest. His experience with Marx had been worth it in the end if it could help others get there way out of similar situations.

Within a month of Marx’s conviction, the media started to back away from Jaskier. Jaskier sighed in relief when he opened his newsfeed a month after Marx’s conviction to find for the first time in months his name mentioned nowhere. The media had always been fickle and had obviously found something more interesting to talk about than Jaskier. Jaskier couldn’t help but feel relieved to the extreme.

Jaskier decided to use the money he had gained from his last album to help the victims of abuse and rape. He set up a small charity with the money, giving complete power to a group of organisers who had run similar charities in the past. Not a word of it was mentioned in the press and Jaskier had been glad. He hadn’t wanted people to know he had poured the millions he had earned from his last album into this. After all, he hadn’t done it for the fame, he’d done it try and help other people.

The first Sunday after Marx’s conviction, Jaskier and Geralt went to Vesemir’s house as they always did for Sunday dinners. Geralt had been cagy about this particular dinner, assuring Jaskier that he didn’t need to help Triss with making the dinner. That coupled with the fact Ciri had been bouncing up and down the last few days with excitement had made Jaskier at least a little suspicious. That being said he hadn’t expected to walk into Vesemir’s home to discover his whole family standing there with wide smiles and congratulations. Jaskier had been pulled into hugs by them all, every single one of them wearing relived and happy smiles. By the time Jaskier was back in Geralt’s arms, he’d been crying with happiness.

“We missed you.” Geralt explained when Jaskier asked why they had gone to so much effort to celebrate Marx being convicted. “We wanted to celebrate you back in our lives.” Geralt said, pressing a kiss to Jaskier’s head and Jaskier had found himself crying all over again.

“Thank you.” Jaskier had managed, smiling softly into Geralt’s chest.

Slowly Jaskier started to feel more like himself. The nerves and panic and shame that had followed him around for months because of Marx slowly started to dissipate. It helped that his family were forever patient with him.

Triss filling in the silence while Jaskier helped make Sunday dinners, letting Jaskier be as quiet as he needed to be with no judgement. Yennefer still offering her usual insults regardless of the fact that Jaskier couldn’t always bring himself to retort, showing she didn’t think Jaskier was broken. Lambert still slapped Jaskier on the back in the way he always had, not taking any offense when Jaskier would flinch on occasion, mind not focused enough to register Lambert’s movements. Eskel, ever the quieter of the Rivia judgements, would let Jaskier sit in silence as long he needed to; offering no judgement on the way Jaskier’s hands shook as he offered silent support while Jaskier fought to keep the panic clawing up his throat under control. Vesemir would let Jaskier sit with him for hours as Jaskier slowly stumbled through a conversation. The older Rivia never offered any judgement when Jaskier’s words would come out hesitantly or Jaskier would just stare into place, not registering the fact someone had spoken to him. They all made a point of visiting Jaskier whenever they could, none of them wanting to let Jaskier be alone as he slowly recovered. All offering support and comfort in their own small ways.

Ciri would always be available for Jaskier to forget his troubles. He found it easiest being himself with the young girl, Ciri letting him forget everything Marx had done as she talked his ear off. Jaskier could laugh and joke and talk with Ciri without fear of the memories overwhelming him. On the odd occasion when the memories of Marx’s actions overtook Jaskier when he was with Ciri the girl would suddenly throw her arms around Jaskier’s shaking form with tears in her eyes as she told him everything was ok and if anyone ever hurt her Jaskier again she’d kick their arse, which she could do because Uncle Lambert had shown her how to do it. Jaskier would always chuckle wetly at that, remembering meeting the feisty 5 year old and being threatened in a similar way if he ever hurt Geralt. It comforting him to know that protectiveness now extended to him as well as Geralt.

And Geralt. Without Geralt Jaskier honestly didn’t think he would have gotten through any of this. Geralt was always there whenever Jaskier needed him, offering silent comfort and re-assurances as Jaskier cried into his arms. Jaskier sometimes felt guilty for taking so much of Geralt’s time but the gruff man would just growl and tell him to stop apologising for something he couldn’t control. Every time Jaskier had a nightmare of some kind Geralt was there, holding Jaskier through it, kissing his head softly as Jaskier’s wept into his chest. In Geralt’s warm protective embrace Jaskier felt safer than he had ever done in his life, knowing no one would hurt him while Geralt was there.

The label got in touch with Jaskier 2 months after Marx’s conviction. David the label manager had been apologetic, begging for Jaskier to return back. He kept saying that following everything Marx had done Jaskier’s next single would be the most successful yet. Jaskier had felt sick at the prospect of profiting off what Marx had done, it had partly been why he had given all the money from the last album to charity. The money had felt tainted by Marx’s actions. Geralt had been in the room when Jaksier got the call and when he saw the anger filling Jaskier’s face he had taken the phone from Jaskier’s hand and told Jaskier’s label to fuck off. They hadn’t tried to get in contact since and Jaskier was grateful.

It took Jaskier 3 months after the conviction to build up the courage to go out in public again. After everything the media had done, Jaksier was sure that the minute he stepped outside of his and Geralt’s cottage he would be swamped and the thought of his face being plastered all over the internet again made him sick. For the last 3 months he’d been a literal hermit living in the cottage, not willing to leave except for the family Sunday dinners and he knew how worried Geralt was because of it. 3 months after it had all finished, Ciri had announced Jaskier was going to take her to the lake and the smirk on Geralt’s face told Jaskier Geralt had planned this. He knew Jaskier wouldn’t say no to Ciri and Jaskier felt his shoulder slump in defeat as he nodded.

The whole journey to the lake Jaskier had felt his eyes nervously darting around him fully expecting a paparazzi to jump out of the bushes like they had the last time Jaskier had been here. Except they got all the way to the lake with nothing. Geralt kept a firm grip on Jaskier’s hand, offering silent comfort as Ciri bounded ahead down the path. When they reached the lake Jaskier felt the calm that had always filled him when he came here fill him. The air was cold and Jaskier pulled his jacket a closer around him as he followed Ciri to the lake. Geralt smiled, sitting on the bench that Jaskier had sat in by mistake, not realising that had been Geralt’s seat. Jaskier smiled at Geralt, remembering that gruff stranger who had demanded to know why Jaskier was in his seat.

They spent all day at the lake, Ciri and Jaskier taking their welly clad feet and jumping and splashing in the lake loudly. Geralt disappeared at one point, returning with thermo cups full of hot chocolate which Jaskier and Ciri had taken gratefully. By the time they returned to the house Jaskier was exhausted and grinning madly. He went down the lake nearly every day since.

6 months after Marx’s conviction, Jaksier finally pulled out his guitar. It had sat unused since Jaskier had collapsed after his concern. He pulled the guitar from it’s case with shaking hands, gently tuning the instrument as he sat on the edge of his and Geralt’s bed. Geralt was at the White Wolf and Ciri was at Yennefer’s and for once Jaskier had had no visitors for the day, leaving him alone in the house. Jaskier took his guitar downstairs and slowly started to strum the tunes that had always so easily worked their way from his guitar. When Geralt had returned home he had smiled softly to see Jaskier’s head bent over his guitar, music filling the previously quiet house.

After this, Jaskier’s flamboyant self slowly started to re-emerge. He started to wear the clothes he had always loved before his fame had twisted them into something he had hated. Jaskier had always been flamboyant and colourful and now he was starting to be that again. The first time he turned up for Sunday dinner in a pair of bright blue skinny jeans and tight red button up he had seen the delighted smiles on his families faces. It was the first Sunday when Jaskier’s voice could be clearly heard over the thumping in the kitchen as he and Triss made Sunday dinner.

That night Jaskier had pulled Geralt into their bedroom, kissing him softly and passionately. “You’re sure?” Geralt had murmured against Jaskier’s lips and Jaskier had nodded, letting Geralt pull him down to the bed. When Geralt had stripped them both and gently started to prepare Jaskier, Jaksier had expected to remember Marx’s fingers in place of Geralt’s but he didn’t. He had kissed Geralt’ fiercely as Geralt penetrated him for the first time and as they lay wrapped in each other’s arms that night completely naked Jaksier had felt peace run through him. Marx hadn’t ruined this.

“I’m not sure about this.” Jaskier hesitated as he pulled on his shoes. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Geralt said, moving to stand in front of Jaskier and pulling his lover into his arms. Jaskier lifted his head to kiss Geralt’s lips. This would be the first time Jaskier had ever gone out in public with Geralt. It was a little over a year since Marx’s conviction and Jaksier had been out of the press completely now for months. The last post about Jaskier had been 5 months ago when a small magazine had published a piece asking ‘Where did Jaskier go?’

“It’s not that…” Jaskier hesitated, head coming to rest against Geralt’s chest. “People still recognise me Geralt.”

“And my picture was already in the news back in the court case.” Geralt reminded Jaskier, kissing his head softly. “And they never got my name.”

“Ok.” Jaskier whispered, gazing blue eyes up at Geralt whose amber eyes were shining with adoration.

The restaurant Geralt had chosen for their first ever dinner was small. Jaskier smiled as he looked around at the intimate tables, candles lit on each of them. The room was lighted with strings of fairy lights which made everything in the room glow. Geralt had dressed in a dress pants and a shite shirt, white-hair hanging lose around his face as his amber eyes glowed with warmth. Jaskier smiled as the waitress brought them a bottle of wine to share.

It was intimate. Geralt’s legs brushed Jaskier’s under the table the whole time they ate. Jaskier’s eyes never truly left Geralt’s as they talked throughout the meal. No one recognised Jaskier as he sat there with Geralt. When they were done, Geralt wrapped an arm around Jaskier’s shoulders, guiding Jaskier out of the restaurant. They walked along the streets of London, Jaskier wrapped close to Geralt. And still no one recognised him.

Geralt took Jaskier to the White Wolf after the meal. It was the first time Jaskier had ever actually been in the bar when it was open and Triss gave him a friendly wave as Jaskier and Geralt walked in. Geralt pulled Jaskier into a seat at the bar, motioning for Triss to pass 2 beers down to them. Geralt leant on the bar, hands clasping Jaskier’s as they soaked in the atmosphere of Geralt’s bar. By the time they got home, Jaskier was warm with affection and love.

And as Jaskier lay wrapped in Geralt’s arms he couldn’t help but smile. The normal life he had always wished to share with Geralt was finally a reality. And Jaskier couldn’t be happier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading this story and thank you all for the kind comments. I hope you all enjoyed :)

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoyed


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